


Inhaling Stars

by stormflight777



Series: Cosmic Love [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Clone Wars (2003) - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Forbidden Love, Force Bond, Force Dyad, Force-Sensitive OC, Mutual Pining, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Obi-Wan Kenobi is a Mess, Obi-Wan/Original Female Character, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Some light smut, but this is Obi-Wan/OC, come on its obi-wan kenobi, ex-jedi, ish? not exactly but kinda, like really slow burn guys, obi-wan kenobi drinks respect women juice, obitine if you squint and tilt your head to the side, vespera is a queen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:53:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 53,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22517302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stormflight777/pseuds/stormflight777
Summary: The Clone Wars have rocked the galaxy to its core. The war seems to stretch its deadly touch to all areas of the galaxy.Obi-Wan Kenobi and the Jedi struggle to defend peace and the Republic. The paragon of the Jedi, Obi-Wan adheres to the Code and trusts the Force. He trusts that the Clone Wars will end. He trusts that Anakin will someday bring balance. Though not perfect, Obi-Wan strives to be a good Jedi.But war often brings people together, as much as it tears them apart. When Obi-Wan meets a woman from his past, he struggles to remain grounded in a crumbling world.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Original Character(s), Obi-Wan Kenobi/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Cosmic Love [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1620136
Comments: 32
Kudos: 63





	1. Chapter 1

**_ Inhaling Stars (Rewrite)  _ **

**Hello, all! If you’re new here, welcome! If you’re returning, welcome back! For those of you who don’t know, this is a rewrite of my former Obi-Wan/OC fic, _Inhaling Stars_. I posted a while back that I would be reuploading this story because I wasn’t happy with my first writing of it. My writing has grown since I wrote the old version of this story, and I didn’t feel like I was capturing Obi-Wan’s character well enough. I also felt like my first version of this story was not slow-burn enough. **

**Side note—I know there’s an accent over the e in Padme’s name, but I have to manually go and put in the accent every time and I’m not doing that so just pretend it’s there lmao. I tried adding it to the dictionary, but for some reason, my laptop won’t save the changes. Maybe I’ll figure it out and can fix it, but for now, just pretend the little accent is there. (Sorry Padme you deserve better!!!)**

**I’ve changed a few things with this version as well. (You don’t need to have read the first version of this story to understand). Vespera’s background has been changed, for example. Not all of it, but some of her history. Some other changes will be revealed as the story progresses, but others—like the setting—I will clarify here. In the original version, the events took place after Season 6 of The Clone Wars series. Since we are getting Season 7 (AHHHHH!!!), and because I just re-watched the whole series, this new version is taking place during all seasons of the series. You don’t really need to have watched the show to get what’s going on, because I don’t focus too heavily on specific episodes. For instance, this first chapter takes place just after the “Destroy Malevolence” arc. I’ll try to remember to clarify what season we’re in and whatnot as the story progresses, but for the most part, the events of this story take place in between episodes or in the background of episodes. I might bring in Season 7 a little bit more, though.**

**Also, because this does take place during The Clone Wars series, there will be some Obitine going on. HOWEVER, this is ultimately an Obi-Wan/OC fic. If you’re here for Obitine, I’m sorry, but this is not a fix-it fic.**

**One more thing: This story will progress until about halfway through the events of Revenge of the Sith. Then I will write two different sequels—one will adhere closely with the canon ending of ROTS, and the other will be canon divergent/alternate universe. (I mean, with an OC, you’re kinda gonna get into canon divergent/au territory anyway, but I digress).**

**Anyway, I hope everyone enjoys this story. It’s very near and dear to my heart, and I wanted to do these characters justice, which is why I’m doing a complete rewrite. Please remember to leave feedback, and enjoy! <3 **


	2. Chapter One

The streaking blue of hyperspace filled every viewport of Anakin’s ship. Senator Amidala sat to Anakin’s right, finishing a comm call with Chancellor Palpatine. Ahsoka sat to Obi-Wan’s left, directly behind Anakin in the captain’s chair. The young Padawan swung her feet back and forth, skimming the soles of her boots on the floor.

“Not that I’m not glad you’re here, Senator Amidala, but is it really safe for you to be coming with us?” Ahsoka’s query barely spilled out of her mouth before Padme finished her call with Chancellor Palpatine.

“I want to know how I got sent into that battlefield in the first place,” said Padme. “If someone wants me dead, I have a right to know who and why.”

“And they’re sending all three of us with you?” Ahsoka swiveled her chair toward Obi-Wan.

“Aw, Snips, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were disappointed to be spending all of this quality time together,” Anakin said before Obi-Wan could offer any sort of comment.

“It does seem a bit excessive,” allowed Padme.

“I believe the Council thought it would be wise to send at least one Jedi escort with you since you were directed into a battlefield, but since the three of us were already so close in the vicinity, it was thought best we all accompany you.” Obi-Wan stroked his beard.

“So, how do we even know where the wrong coordinates came from?” Ahsoka leaned forward.

“The transmission pinged off a moon called Raria in the Azyrion System.”

Obi-Wan tilted his head at the mention of Azyrion. He had not heard of that place in a very long time.

“They’re not Republic, are they?” Ahsoka guessed.

“No, they’re a neutral system,” Obi-Wan answered. He offered Ahsoka a reassuring half-smile. “Not to worry, young one. I don’t believe the queen there is our enemy.”

“Well _that_ doesn’t sound very reassuring.”

“Wait, you know this system?” Padme turned to look back at Obi-Wan.

“You know _the queen_?” Anakin demanded. “Why didn’t I know this? Have I met her?”

“It was before you joined the Order, Anakin,” Obi-Wan sighed. “I knew her a long time ago. I’m not even sure if this is the same queen or not.”

“Well, we’re about to find out,” said Anakin. “Dropping out of hyperspace.”

Obi-Wan curled his hands around the armrests of his seat as his stomach lurched with the sudden exit out of hyperspace. The planet of Azyrion welcomed them in the viewport. A few moons circulated the blue planet.

“Which one’s Raria?”

“Wait, we have to request permission to land on the moon,” said Padme. “We’ll have to talk to someone on Azyrion first.”

“Right. Not Republic space. Different rules. Got it.” Anakin steered toward the planet. Obi-Wan leaned forward and furrowed his brow. Was the queen of Azyrion still here? There didn’t seem to be a reason why she wouldn’t be here, but politics always posed some sort of danger in Obi-Wan’s experience.

“Wow,” Ahsoka breathed, peering out the viewport. Obi-Wan had never visited Azyrion before, but he knew descriptions of it. Pristine coasts, turquoise oceans, and cities built on cliffs overlooking the seas or with canals instead of streets stapled Azyrion’s surface. Its oceans provided a number of different valuable resources. He had to admit, the descriptions did not do Azyrion justice.

“Now, where to land… Kriff!”

The ship rocked violently from a blast on the ground. Obi-Wan’s head jerked to the side, straining his neck. Alarms blared and lights flashed as Anakin tried to steady the ship.

“Buckle in and brace yourselves, it’s gonna be a rough landing!” Anakin shouted.

Obi-Wan waited for Ahsoka to buckle in first before following suit. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, tensing as the ship’s descent felt more like a plummet to certain death rather than a “rough landing.” His stomach dropped with every bit of atmosphere they lost.

“Why is that when _you_ fly, we almost always crash?” Obi-Wan groaned, his hands tightening around the armrests.

“Do you wanna fly the ship?” Anakin snapped.

“Oh no, you’re doing a _brilliant_ job.”

“It’s not _my_ fault this not-our-enemy planet just shot us down!”

“Anakin! Can you please focus on landing?” Padme cried.

“I am!”

The ship crashed into several trees, flinging Obi-Wan around in his seat with the impact. When it hit the ground, Obi-Wan lurched forward, though his seat restraint kept him from launching straight through the viewport. He would definitely have a bruise on his chest in the morning.

Anakin groaned. “Is everyone okay?”

“Define okay,” coughed Ahsoka, arching her back and unbuckling her safety restraint.

“What sort of planet just shoots down a random ship?” Padme removed her restraint, too.

Obi-Wan unbuckled and straightened from his seat. “The kind who doesn’t view our ship as random.”

“I think its safe to say that Azyrion’s queen _is_ our enemy,” grumbled Anakin, jumping up from his seat. He shot a particularly dark glower at Obi-Wan.

“I don’t think we have all the pieces to the puzzle yet, Anakin,” Obi-Wan retorted, following Ahsoka out of the ship. “All we know is that someone wants Senator Amidala dead, and whoever does is on this planet.”

“The queen probably knows nothing about it,” said Padme, “or I hope whoever rules this system doesn’t. If they attack Republic ships without warning, they aren’t neutral.”

Obi-Wan dropped from the ship onto the ground. As soon as his boots touched the earth, the Force seemed to hum under them. It seemed as if a crackle of electricity surged underneath his skin, or as if his limbs fell asleep. Ahsoka looked at Obi-Wan.

“Do you… _feel_ that?”

“This place feels strong with the Force,” murmured Anakin. He clenched his fists and then flexed his fingers.

“It feels muted at the same time,” said Obi-Wan, the initial intensity of the Force ebbing with each step he took.

“Wait,” Padme stopped. “Do you hear that?”

A faint buzzing in the distance grew closer and closer. Speeders. Anakin, and Ahsoka drew their lightsabers. Whoever rode those speeders could be responsible for shooting them down. Four speeders circled around them, and eight soldiers dismounted and aimed their weapons at Obi-Wan and his companions. The soldiers wore the same insignia on their armor.

“We just want to talk,” Obi-Wan stepped forward. “We were just shot down and seek an audience with your queen.”

The two closest soldiers exchanged a glance. “You’re trespassing on our planet.”

“Are you the ones who did this?” Anakin’s voice edged at the hint of a snarl, and he gestured at his damaged ship, which left a wake of destroyed trees and landscape behind it.

“No,” said the first soldier. He relaxed. “We will take you to King Callan and Queen Vespera.”

Obi-Wan’s stomach knotted. So it _was_ her. He sucked in a sharp breath and held it for a moment, his muscles tense. No logical reason existed to be apprehensive of seeing Vespera—except for the fact that someone on her planet shot their ship down—yet Obi-Wan still found himself bracing himself. He rode on the back of one of the soldiers’ speeders to the palace. The closer they got, the more Obi-Wan tensed. He rolled his shoulders as he dismounted the speeder and sighed, allowing the Force to soothe him.

He supposed part of the reason he dreaded seeing Vespera was that he had not spoken to her since… Well, since before Qui-Gon died. In fact, the last time he saw her was just before going to Naboo to help free Padme’s people from the clutches of the Trade Federation. He doubted Vespera even remembered him or would recognize him.

The soldiers escorted Obi-Wan, Padme, Anakin, and Ahsoka into a large room with two thrones. The soldiers withdrew to guard the exits of the room. Obi-Wan exchanged a glance with Anakin, sensing the unease roiling off of him in waves. From the side door entered a tall, shrewd-looking man. His hair was shoulder-length and mousy brown. He narrowed his eyes and peered down his long, thin nose at Obi-Wan and his companions as he took his seat upon his throne. The woman who entered behind him looked almost exactly the same as and yet entirely different from the woman Obi-Wan once knew.

Vespera Stellavis had always been pretty, but being queen certainly suited her. She styled her hair in an elegant updo and wore a delicate crown. Her gown was nothing short of regal, though she seemed considerably less elaborate than the king. Vespera’s green eyes flicked over her audience, and then settled on Obi-Wan. Her lips parted. She _did_ remember him. She looked away quickly as she sat upon her throne.

“Would anyone care to explain why three Jedi and a Republic Senator are in our _neutral_ system?” The king curled his thin lips. “We don’t want your presence here on our planet. You’ll bring your _war_ with you.” 

“Your Highness,” said Padme, stepping forward, “we wanted to request permission to land on one of your moons—”

“And yet you didn’t ask permission! You sent a wave of destruction through one of our forests.”

Obi-Wan’s gaze flicked to Vespera. She lowered her eyes, instead staring at her hands in her lap.

“With all due respect, we were attacked by someone on Azyrion. Someone shot our ship down. Anakin doesn’t normally crash-land,” said Obi-Wan. Vespera’s mouth twitched.

“Impossible,” scoffed King Callan. “We are a peaceful planet and want no part in this war. We wouldn’t risk shooting down a Republic ship.”

“Evidently someone here does want to take the risk because they did,” Anakin insisted.

Obi-Wan stared at Vespera, trying to understand why she seemed so cold. No, cold was the wrong word. Subdued. Something about her seemed subdued. She cut her eyes toward Callan and then met Obi-Wan’s gaze.

“Why were you in our system to request landing access?” she queried. King Callan cast her a cold, sidelong glance. Vespera tensed under his stare but continued gazing at Obi-Wan and his companions. There was something gentle and kind about her expression, which prompted Obi-Wan forward.

“Senator Amidala was sent to negotiate with a different system, but someone sent her the wrong coordinates, which sent her directly into a battlefield. The signal that sent the wrong coordinates came from one of Azyrion’s moons.”

Vespera’s gaze hardened and her brow puckered. “Which moon?”

“Raria, your majesty,” said Padme.

Vespera and Callan looked at one another.

“We should see their evidence of this,” Vespera urged.

“No. Just negotiating with them puts at risk!” Callan’s lip curled.

“If Raria is dealing with the Separatists, we are already at risk.” Vespera faced Obi-Wan and his friends. “We’d like to see your evidence of this signal.”

Callan glared at Vespera, but she ignored him.

“It’s back on our ship,” said Ahsoka.

Vespera stood. “Your ship has been transported to one of our hangars. It is currently being repaired. I will take you to it.”

“My queen, would you like a guard?” asked one of the soldiers.

“That won’t be necessary,” said Vespera as she descended the steps from her throne. She walked straight past Obi-Wan without even looking at him. He lifted his eyebrows. Anakin and Padme followed Queen Vespera, while Obi-Wan fell in step with Ahsoka.

“Master Kenobi? Is everything all right?” Ahsoka kept her voice quiet, thank the Force.

“Of course,” said Obi-Wan, offering her a small smile.

“That wasn’t exactly the welcome you were expecting, huh?” Ahsoka eyed him.

Obi-Wan snorted softly. Oh, Ahsoka was so much like Anakin. “No, not exactly. When do things ever go as expected, though?”

Ahsoka shrugged. “Good point.”

Silence lapsed between them and Obi-Wan frowned, focusing his attention on Vespera’s back. Why act like she had no idea who he was? Reaching out with the Force, Obi-Wan felt Anakin and Ahsoka’s Signatures. He felt Padme’s life force, too. Obi-Wan stretched even further to Vespera. Instead of a Signature or life force, he found a cold wall. Vespera glanced over her shoulder at him, but continued walking.

Obi-Wan withdrew. Why would Vespera mask her Force Signature?

They arrived in a hangar, where Anakin’s ship sat, scraped and damaged from their crash. A large, blackened hole marred the left wing. Some Azyrionians worked on it, even examining areas of the hull that needed fixing. Anakin strode toward it and entered his ship to retrieve their datapad. When he returned, he handed it to the queen.

“This _is_ disconcerting.” Her lips flattened into a thin line. She handed the datapad back to Anakin and seemed to force a smile. “Well, while your ship is being repaired, you are my honored guests. In the meantime, I will find who shot your ship down.”

“We could help,” offered Ahsoka. “We’re good at this sort of thing.”

Vespera’s lips twitched. “Oh, I have no doubts that you are. However, this is a case Azyrion must investigate, not three Jedi and a Republic Senator. People might get the wrong idea, since there are so many of you.”

“We came directly from our last mission,” explained Anakin.

Vespera’s brow furrowed. “Was it close to here?”

“Er, kind of,” said Anakin, exchanging a glance with Padme.

Vespera toyed with her wedding ring. “So close to here… This war draws nearer every day. I’m afraid there will be a time when we can no longer remain neutral.”

“Not if diplomacy has anything to say about it,” Padme placed a hand on Vespera’s arm. “The Republic truly wants to honor the neutral systems and their desire to stay out of the war.”

Vespera frowned but did not argue. A sharpness replaced the kindness in her eyes. Vespera doubted Padme’s words and it was obvious. But she did not argue with Padme, nor did she try to belittle her. Instead, Vespera squared her shoulders. “I’ll send one of my handmaidens to show you to the guest quarters. If you’ll excuse me, I have an investigation that needs solving.”

Dipping her head, Vespera turned and left them in the hangar. Her stride, despite her small frame, was powerful. Urgent, too—something about Raria being involved in this whole mess unnerved her, and Obi-Wan sensed it despite the cold wall around her.

“Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I’m not just gonna stand around and wait.” Anakin lifted a brow, as if daring anyone to challenge him.

Obi-Wan sighed. “I suppose I’ll distract the queen. Just don’t get caught.”

While Anakin, Padme, and Ahsoka figured out their next move, Obi-Wan exited the hangar and slipped into the corridor. He expected to catch Vespera at one end or the other, but there was no on in sight. She moved faster than he thought. He reached out with the Force, trying to sense which way she could have possibly gone. He sensed the cold wall nearby and toward the right, so Obi-Wan trusted the Force and followed it. He turned a corner, but still, Obi-Wan found it empty. He reached out with the Force again, and sensed something akin to danger—

Someone grabbed him and pulled him into a sitting room. The person placed a hand over his mouth.

“Are you trying to get me killed?” Vespera hissed. “Reaching out with the Force, following me around? What part of ‘stay out of this’ don’t you understand?”

Obi-Wan lifted an eyebrow. “May I speak?”

His voice sounded muffled under Vespera’s palm. She removed her hand.

“I was beginning to wonder if you didn’t actually recognize me at all.”

Vespera scowled. “Of course I recognized you. I was hoping I was wrong when I sensed you, but here you are.”

“It’s good to see you too, Vez.” Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes at her.

She froze, staring up at him with wide eyes. “No one has called me that since—”

“Since you were a Jedi?” Obi-Wan guessed.

Vespera’s cheeks drained of color. “Do you want me dead?”

“That depends. Do you want _us_ dead?” Obi-Wan inclined his head, as if indicating the hangar a corridor away.

“I did not order your ship shot down,” Vespera insisted. Her glare softened. “You should know me better than that, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan furrowed his brow. “Let me help you. If someone is defying your rule, Azyrion could very well be pulled into the war. I know you don’t want that.”

“My rule is easy to defy these days.”

“What do you mean?”

Vespera stared at him, as if deciding whether or not to trust him. “It is of no concern of yours, or the Republic’s. Please, Obi-Wan. Keep out of this.”

With that, Vespera exited the room. Obi-Wan frowned. Why would it endanger Vespera’s life for him to get involved, or to speak of her past as a Jedi?

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Eventually, one of Vespera’s handmaidens found Obi-Wan on his return to the hangar and led him to the guest quarters, where Anakin, Ahsoka, and Padme waited in the sitting room.

“I see distracting the queen went well,” Anakin said, raising an eyebrow.

Obi-Wan mimicked the expression. “I see not getting caught went well.”

Anakin shrugged. “The people here _really_ don’t want us getting involved.”

“Yes… I’m afraid it’ll be harder to deceive Vespera. Sneaking up on a former Jedi is not as easy as you might think.” Obi-Wan stroked his beard.

“Wait, what?” Ahsoka’s attention snapped to Obi-Wan. Padme and Anakin gaped at him, too.

“You failed to mention that Vespera was a former Jedi.” Anakin’s brow shadowed with a scowl.

“I did not think it was important at the time,” said Obi-Wan, sitting heavily in an armchair. He propped his elbow on his knee. “I wasn’t even sure if she would still be here. She left the Order the same time Anakin joined it.”

“She _left_ the Order? Jedi do that?” Anakin demanded.

“It is not an occurrence that happens often, but yes, it does happen.”

“Why did she leave? What about the commitment?” Ahsoka stared at Obi-Wan with a furrowed brow.

“We were all on Naboo when she left,” Obi-Wan gestured to Anakin and Padme. “She didn’t tell me why she left. Though from what I understand from Master Plo, Vespera chose to leave for her people.”

“She was Master _Plo’s_ —”

“Padawan, yes.” Obi-Wan offered Ahsoka a small smile. He returned to staring ahead, his brow creasing. “She was a skilled Jedi. She took the trials and became a Knight before me, though she never had the opportunity to train a Padawan herself.”

“And now she’s the ruler of a possible Separatist system.” The disgust in Anakin’s voice brought Obi-Wan out of his reverie.

“I don’t think so. Vespera said something rather odd to me: that her rule is easy to defy these days. I believe there could be radicals working against her.”

“So, she could be in danger?”

“Possibly, but that’s not what we’re here for. We have a duty to uncover who endangered Senator Amidala’s life.” Obi-Wan turned to Padme, who remained remarkably quiet. Something roiled in her mind, but she did not speak it for once.

“But if Vespera used to be a Jedi, shouldn’t we help her?” Ahsoka queried.

Obi-Wan’s stomach twisted. As much as he would like to help his old friend, they had a duty. “Vespera is more than capable of taking care of herself.”

“Obi-Wan’s right,” said Padme. “Azyrion is a neutral system. Unless the situation becomes dire or the rulers request aid, the Republic shouldn’t interfere.”

“So, what do we do?” Anakin asked.

“We should keep investigating on our own,” said Padme. Her mouth twisted with a smirk. “But let’s try not to get caught this time.”

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Obi-Wan wandered around the palace, allowing the Force to guide him. Anakin, Ahsoka, and Padme split up to find either a security room or to the hangar to see if anything about the blast that took them down could reveal anything about their attacker. As much as Obi-Wan tried to focus on his duties, his mind kept drifting to Vespera. He couldn’t help but think of the last time he saw her, before he departed for Naboo.

_She had passed the trials a few months ago, a fresh Jedi Knight. He still had yet to take the trials, but it seemed that with Qui-Gon wanting to take young Anakin Skywalker as an apprentice, Obi-Wan would soon achieve Jedi Knight status like Vespera. Normally, whenever Vespera and Obi-Wan passed one another in the halls of the Jedi Temple, she greeted him with a smile. This time, however, her lips barely twitched. Dark circles rounded her eyes, and her hair hung haggardly from her braid._

_“Vez?” Obi-Wan paused in his stride. “Are you alright?”_

_“I’m fine,” Vespera croaked. Obi-Wan sensed her lie through the Force, but chose not to comment on it. She seemed to force a smile. “I heard you are going to Naboo.”_

_Obi-Wan dipped his head. “I am. I might be taking the trials soon as well.”_

_A genuine smile warmed Vespera’s face. “Congratulations. I know you’ll do well.”_

_“Thank you. Next time we go on a mission together, it’ll be as Jedi Knights.”_

_Vespera’s smile faltered. “Perhaps.”_

_“Or not,” Obi-Wan joked. “Is the thought of going on a mission with me so terrible?”_

_A ghost of Vespera’s humor glinted in her eyes. “Yes. You’re absolutely insufferable.”_

_Obi-Wan grinned, but he sensed a deep sorrow within his friend. “I, er, should be going.”_

_“Yes, of course,” Vespera shook her head and smiled again. “May the Force be with you, Obi.”_

_“May the Force be with you.”_

When Obi-Wan returned from his mission, grieving Qui-Gon’s death, he sought out Vespera, but found that during his mission on Naboo, Vespera Stellavis had left the Jedi Order. Obi-Wan’s chest stung with a dull ache at the memory. She had chosen to leave without even saying goodbye. In the same week, Obi-Wan lost his Master and one of his best friends.

Voices jolted Obi-Wan from his thoughts. He ducked around a corner.

“It’s best for the queen not to know. She likes to get into things that she shouldn’t.”

“And what about our uninvited guests? They’re proving to be just as troublesome as the queen.”

“They’ll be gone in a rotation once their ship is repaired. I don’t see them being a problem, even if they _are_ Jedi.”

Their voices faded as they moved further down the hall. Obi-Wan frowned. Was Vez actually in danger? Who were those men, and what were they hiding from the queen?

With a sigh, Obi-Wan stepped out from around the corner. He paused in the hall, standing the in the light of the sun, which beamed through an opening that fanned into a balcony. As much as Obi-Wan wanted to help Vespera, he reminded himself of his duty. But, those two men might be involved with whoever shot down Anakin’s ship…

“You have a habit of being in places you shouldn’t,” said Vespera. Obi-Wan wheeled. She stepped out from behind a pillar on the balcony.

Obi-Wan smirked. “And you have a habit of appearing out of nowhere.”

“Well, I do know this palace pretty well.”

“I imagine so.”

Vespera leaned against the pillar and folded her arms. “You and your friends aren’t going to leave this alone.”

“We don’t follow the rules very well.”

“Isn’t that an essential aspect to being a Jedi Master?” Vespera raised a brow.

“Well, if you were to ask my former Padawan, it’s about _how_ you follow the rules.”

Vespera snorted softly and walked past Obi-Wan and stepped toward a doorway. “Come on. If you’re not going to keep away, you might as well come with me.”

“So you can keep an eye on me?” Obi-Wan guessed, following Vespera into the room.

“Exactly,” Vespera winked. She pressed her hands against the paneling of the left wall. It slid open to reveal a staircase leading upward. “There are secret passages all over the palace. Apparently, the king who built this palace used them to hide his affairs.”

She walked up the staircase, which was quite narrow and steep. Obi-Wan followed, pressing a button that shut the paneling in the wall behind him. He climbed the stairs and exited the passageway. They stood in a corridor that felt abandoned. Dust coated the surfaces of the floor and window sills. Vespera entered a room at the end of the hallway. Inside was a sitting room, but Vespera walked past it and entered the bedchamber. The canopy bed looked untouched. The intricate designs of the bedframe told Obi-Wan that this room used to belong to someone of royalty, though it certainly was not Vespera’s bedroom. Something about the room felt sacred or preserved. Through the Force, Obi-Wan sensed a lingering sorrow in the dust.

“There are no surveillance cameras in here. This side of the palace, as you can see, is untouched. We can speak in peace here.”

Obi-Wan folded his arms. “Do people listen in on you?”

“Unfortunately,” said Vespera, withdrawing a datacard from a pocket within her wrap gown. She held it out to Obi-Wan. “I saved the files that could lead us to whoever shot down your ship.”

Obi-Wan accepted the datacard and placed it in a pocket. “Us?”

Vespera lifted a brow. “Well, if you and your friends are going to snoop anyway, you might as well do it with my help.”

“That won’t be necessary. Wouldn’t it be complicated if you got involved?”

“It would be more complicated if I weren’t,” said Vespera. “I’m afraid my husband has bred a lot of mistrust of the Republic, and people will be more likely to speak with me than with you. Besides, if you’re worried about me, I know how to handle myself.” She placed her hands on her hips and dared him to challenge her with a blazing look in her eyes.

Obi-Wan managed a smile. “I suppose I can’t argue with that.”

Vespera returned the gesture, but it faltered after a moment. An awkward, tense silence blossomed between them. Vespera huffed and moved to walk past him. “Well, we should go—”

Obi-Wan caught her gently by the wrist. Vespera wheeled to face him, her eyes glinting fiercely and her hands curled into fists. She jerked out of his grasp. Obi-Wan widened his eyes as Vespera rubbed her wrist. He hadn’t grabbed her that rough.

“My apologies, your highness,” he said, allowing an edge to his voice.

Vespera softened. “No, I’m sorry. I overreacted.”

“We haven’t seen each other in years and you left the Order without saying goodbye. What happened? Why is it dangerous for me to talk to you?” Obi-Wan stared at her, pleading with his eyes for her to talk to him. He had lost her and Qui-Gon within the same week, and Siri Tachi years later. Qui-Gon and Siri could no longer speak with Obi-Wan, but Vespera could.

She stared at him for a long time. Her creased brow and parted lips betrayed her mistrust. Finally, she said quietly, “No one here knows I used to be a Jedi.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whelp, that’s the first chapter! I hope you guys liked it! Please leave a comment!


	3. Chapter Two

Vespera narrowed her eyes as Obi-Wan’s lips parted. He drew back and raised his eyebrows and then leaned toward Vespera. “No one knows of your past?”

Vespera shook her head.

“Then where do people think you were when you were with the Order?”

“School,” Vespera replied shortly. With a small shrug, she added, “Off-world. It’s a pitiful excuse for my whereabouts since Master Shaak Ti found me so young, but my parents weren’t expecting to lie about it in the first place.”

“Why did they? Would it really be so terrible if people knew you were a Jedi? Many worlds consider it an honor.”

Vespera scoffed. “You don’t know Azyrion’s history or culture. I didn’t really either, but… Generations ago, Force-sensitives were demonized. It was a witch hunt. Those laws are still in place, so when I was discovered to be Sensitive, I was sent away in secret.”

Obi-Wan’s brow creased. “That seems a bit… archaic.”

“That isn’t the only archaic law in place here. Female rulers are not granted the same authority as male rulers, for the same reason Force-sensitives are demonized.” Vespera clenched her teeth and fists before releasing the tension in her body as she sank onto the edge of her sister’s bed. “One mad queen many years ago, and now queens must have a council to guide and advise us… I can’t do anything without debating it with my council and husband first.”

“Is that what you meant by your rule being easy to defy these days?”

Vespera stiffened and instinctively covered her wrist, still tender to the touch. “Part of the reason.”

Obi-Wan stroked his beard as he gazed down at Vespera. Something tugged in her chest, some innate desire to trust him. She held back everything she wanted to say, everything bothering her. She and Obi-Wan enjoyed a close friendship once, but that faded when she left the Order. A dull ache throbbed inside her chest.

“Is that why you’ve cut yourself off from the Force?” Obi-Wan’s question jerked Vespera from her thoughts.

“I haven’t cut myself off from the Force,” Vespera replied, “I just know how to keep others out.”

Vespera smirked as Obi-Wan lifted a brow. Her humor faltered after a moment. She stood from her sister’s bed and crossed to the window; her arms crossed. Her mind drifted to the Jedi Order and the ones she left behind there. Her _true_ family.

“How is Master Plo?”

“He’s doing well, as far as I know,” Obi-Wan replied.

A soft smile tugged at the corners of Vespera’s mouth and she turned. “And Master Shaak Ti?”

“She’s on Kamino overseeing the Clones.”

Vespera’s smile vanished. “Ah.”

“Do the Clones bother you?”

“Creating sentient beings to fight a war they have no true stake in bothers me,” said Vespera, her brow puckering.

Obi-Wan lowered his gaze but offered no reply.

“We should be getting back.”

“Right,” Obi-Wan squared his shoulders. “Thank you for the datacard, Vez.”

Vespera froze and narrowed her eyes at him. “Please don’t call me that around anyone else.”

Obi-Wan dipped his head respectfully while Vespera led the way back to the secret stairwell. She did not need the Force to feel Obi-Wan’s confusion or feel his mind working, running over their conversation. Judging by the crease of his brow, he pondered their conversation deeply. While she walked, Vespera’s mind drifted to a time when she and Obi-Wan shared an effortless friendship, studying in the Jedi Archives or meditating in the Jedi Temple. The dull ache in her chest returned.

One of Callan’s personal guards stopped Vespera and Obi-Wan in the hallway. Vespera composed her features, but inwardly, her heart fluttered and she curled her hands into fists to keep them from trembling. What if someone overheard her conversation with Obi-Wan? What if Callan knew she used to be a Jedi—

“My queen,” the guard inclined his head, “the king requests your presence in the council chamber.”

Vespera swallowed the lump in her throat. Of course. She probably angered Callan by speaking over him in the throne room. She dipped her head to dismiss the guard and then turned to Obi-Wan. “I trust you know how to stay out of trouble, Master Kenobi?”

Obi-Wan smirked. “Of course, your majesty.”

When he bowed slightly, Vespera suppressed the urge to roll her eyes at him. Ever so witty, Obi-Wan Kenobi.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

As Vespera drew closer to the council chamber, her stomach twisted into knots. She clasped her hands in front of her to disguise their trembling. With a deep breath, she entered the council chamber. Her councilmen stood in greeting, waiting for Vespera to take her place at the head of the table beside King Callan, who watched her with a slightly curled lip. His eyes followed her like some reptilian creature, sharp and dangerous. He possessed the uncanny habit of making Vespera feel like prey.

“You cut across my authority in front of the Republic intruders,” he accused before Vespera settled in her seat. The councilmen took their seats, too.

Vespera squared her shoulders. “I assure you, that was not my intention.”

“Then what was your intention?” sneered Callan.

“You’re fraternizing with the enemy!” cried Councilman Gan.

“Our sources tell us you’re friendly with the Republic invaders and have spent some time conversing with one of the Jedi,” added Deion.

Vespera widened her eyes. “ _Your_ _sources_? You’re spying on me?”

“Spying on the Republic invaders, your majesty,” corrected Deion.

“Gentlemen,” Vespera straightened in her chair, “need I remind you that my loyalty lies with Azyrion? I am queen by birthright, and as such, I belong firstly to Azyrion, regardless of what friends I have beyond. My people matter to me more than anything else in this universe. If we do not figure out who attacked the Republic visitors on our soil without my say, then it could very well mean disaster for Azyrion. The faster we figure out who is responsible for shooting down the Republic ship, the sooner the Republic leaves our system. Would it not be better for me to be involved to ensure these Republic visitors don’t get involved in something they shouldn’t?”

The council exchanged glances. Gan, Deion, Cathal, Jiang, Torin, and Soren turned their attention to Callan, who pursed his lips and tapped his finger against the table. “Very well. Dismissed.”

The councilmen stood and exited the chamber while Vespera tried not to roll her eyes. Calling a council meeting for something so trivial merely wasted time. She bowed her head to Callan and stood, but Callan jumped from his seat and grabbed Vespera’s already bruised wrist.

“What are you up to, sneaking about the palace and investigating like a common Schutta?”

Vespera scowled. “How dare you?”

Callan tightened his grip on her wrist. “You are a queen, leave the investigating to the authorities.”

“Do I need to remind you that my achievements as queen include more than just wearing pretty gowns and attending charity balls?” Vespera snapped.

“Oh, there’s no need for that,” Callan sneered. “I’m well aware of all your achievements as queen. They’ve been surprisingly few lately, haven’t they?”

Vespera pursed her lips for a moment. “Perhaps if I didn’t have to fight you and the council at every turn—”

“You know why you must. You rely on your heart too much. You need advisors with strong minds to help you make tough decisions.”

“Tough decisions?” Vespera repeated. She yanked her wrist free of Callan’s grasp. “I am well-versed in making tough decisions. What have you accomplished as king? Silencing a woman? Yes, your life is _full_ of making difficult decisions. You must be _so_ exhausted. Would you like to lie down?”

Callan raised his hand toward Vespera’s face. She flinched, but Callan lowered his hand. He eyed her coldly. “You should be a good hostess and invite our guests to dinner tonight. After all, that’s the queen’s job, isn’t it? To maintain the palace and entertain.”

With a smirk, Callan left Vespera alone in the council chamber. She splayed a hand across her stomach and let out a shuddering breath.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Entering the guest quarters, Vespera found Obi-Wan, Senator Amidala, and the other two Jedi in the lounge. The other male Jedi—Anakin, Vespera recalled Obi-Wan saying—paced by the window, his hands curled into fists. A scowl contorted his handsome features. The young Togruta sat on a sofa, her arms draped over her thin stomach, feet propped up on the settee. Obi-Wan stood, one arm crossed over his chest, his hand propping up his elbow while he stroked his beard. Senator Amidala sat beside the Togruta, leaning forward. All of their eyes snapped to Vespera when she entered the room.

“I figured I should properly introduce myself,” she announced. “I’m Vespera Stellavis, and I want to help you investigate who shot your ship down.”

Anakin raised his eyebrows. “I’m Anakin, that’s Padme, and that’s Ahsoka. From what we know, you’ve already met Obi-Wan.”

“Have you looked at the datacard yet?” Vespera turned to Obi-Wan after offering Ahsoka and Padme a dip of her head in greeting.

“I have, but I haven’t shown them yet,” said Obi-Wan.

“Why the sudden change of heart?” Anakin demanded.

Vespera lifted a brow. “Not so much a change of my heart but a _movement_ to convince my council.”

She folded her arms as Obi-Wan stuck the datacard into a datapad. He gestured for everyone to gather around. Vespera drew close to him, their shoulders brushing as they peered down at the datapad screen. Ahsoka peeked at it by Vespera’s elbow while Padme and Anakin shadowed Obi-Wan’s left.

“This is all the information my guards and systems investigated of the crash. There’s a simulation of the crash that measures the trajectory to determine where the blast came from.” Vespera tapped the screen to pull up the simulation.

“Was there any information on the blast that could tell us what kind of blaster was used?” Anakin queried.

“It seems like it was constructed and designed by hand,” said Vespera.

“So, we’re looking for some sort of weapons expert?” Ahsoka guessed.

“Possibly,” said Vespera. “Someone intelligent.”

“Looks like the blast came from this area,” said Anakin, gesturing on the datapad.

Padme turned her gaze away from the datapad. “Do you know if there’s anything important in that area of the city? A building of importance, or height?”

Vespera’s stomach churned. “Councilman Cathal’s estate is located in that area.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “We must keep our investigation as secretive as possible. If Councilman Cathal is involved…”

“It complicates things,” said Ahsoka, placing her hands on her hips.

“Exactly. We can go tomorrow morning.”

“Why does everything have to be a secret? If people in your council are working against you, you should investigate and they should know you don’t tolerate it.” Padme’s brow furrowed.

Vespera managed a smile. Senator Amidala’s status as a political powerhouse in the Republic Senate reached even Azyrion. They shared idealism in their traits, but here, Padme’s tendency for idealism was not realistic. Vespera learned that the hard way a long time ago.

“I’m afraid things aren’t that simple here.”

“Why not?” Anakin demanded. Vespera darted her gaze to Obi-Wan before quickly looking away.

Drawing in a deep breath, Vespera said, “The short of it is that queens on Azyrion do not have the same power as kings. My council act less like advisors and more like manipulators.”

“So you’re a figurehead,” Anakin surmised.

“Anakin,” hissed Padme, her eyes hardening as she stared at him.

A bitter smile blossomed across Vespera’s lips. “He has a point. My council and husband try to make me a figurehead, though it’s difficult to control a figurehead who talks back. I’m not entirely powerless. But, it would be helpful for me to keep our findings secret until we’re sure of the culprit.”

Anakin, Ahsoka, Padme, and Obi-Wan exchanged a glance. Vespera sensed the connection the four of them shared—even without Padme being a Jedi—and a deep loneliness reared its head in her chest.

“Alright.” Obi-Wan’s voice was gentle, and he lowered his hand from his beard. He dipped his head and Vespera relaxed.

“In the meantime, I’d like to treat you all to dinner. We can’t start investigating until tomorrow anyway, and it’s been a long day.”

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The guest dining chamber resembled the rest of the palace in its design, with gilded arabesques on the edges of the wall and tops of the marble pillars. A delicate chandelier hung above the table, and two portraits of past monarchs graced the pale green walls on either side of the table. Vespera entered the dining chamber to find Ahsoka, Anakin, and Padme already examining the portraits.

“It says this is King Andreas Filiustella.” Ahsoka squinted at the small plaque underneath the portrait of the past king.

“King Alvaro Filiustella and Queen Agata Filiustella,” Anakin added, gesturing to the portraits of the husband and wife.

“Queen Eviana Visar,” said Padme, tilting her head at the queen with midnight hair and dark eyes.

“Supposedly all monarchs can trace their lineage back to the first monarchs,” said Vespera, drawing Ahsoka’s, Anakin’s, and Padme’s eyes to her. “The Stellavis line can trace all the way back to the Stellum and Visar line for sure. Our lines merged under Queen Eviana Visar to form Stellavis. It makes my line particularly _noble_.” Vespera allowed for a hint of sarcasm to darken her tone. The whole idea of nobility and divine right unnerved her. Her blood did not equal her ability to lead an entire system of people.

“The architecture here is stunning,” said Padme, gesturing to the gilded arabesques on the wall.

Vespera smiled. “Azyrion prizes art above anything else, whether in architecture, music, writing, or other visual arts.”

“Do you have any festivals?” Padme queried. “Naboo has this _beautiful_ one called the Festival of Lights. Its my favorite time of year.”

“We have many holidays and festivals,” said Vespera. “There’s a three-day festival for theatre coming up, actually. One of my favorites is the Bloom Festival. All the flowers are beautiful, and there’s this parade…” She trailed off, her chest throbbing with a dull ache.

_“A beautiful crown for a beautiful queen.” Dorian placed the circlet of pink flowers on Vespera’s head. She grinned and gripped his hands in hers. They intertwined their fingers. Dorian bent closer until his lips touched her ear. “Forever until the stars burn out, my love.”_

_“Until the stars burn, and beyond.”_

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Vespera greeted Obi-Wan with a slight smile when he entered the room. They sat down to eat, and Vespera’s stomach knotted when Callan entered. She stood in greeting, and Callan stood at the end of the table.

“Unfortunately, I will not be joining all of you tonight, though I’m sure my wife’s company will be satisfactory enough.”

Vespera worked her jaw as she held Callan’s gaze.

“Queen Vespera has been very gracious,” said Padme. Thank the Maker for Senator Amidala and her proclivity for smooth-talking.

“Good. She is the face of this system. If you’ll excuse me…” Callan exited the dining chamber. Vespera curled her fingers and pressed her knuckles into the table before seating herself. Her wrist throbbed with the ghost of Callan’s grip.

“I guess the king isn’t too happy about our presence,” said Anakin, grinning awkwardly.

Vespera snorted. “The king is _never_ happy.”

“Well that’s certainly no fun,” Obi-Wan crowed.

Vespera squared her shoulders. “I’m afraid ruling an entire system is not usually fun.”

“Not many opportunities for adventure as a politician,” said Ahsoka.

Vespera’s lips quirked. “I don’t know about that. I’ve heard Senator Amidala has managed to get involved in quite a bit of adventure.”

Padme flushed. “Sometimes being a good politician means investigating things yourself.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Vespera beamed.

“Your majesty, can I ask you something?” Ahsoka queried.

Vespera’s brow puckered. “You can call me Vespera.”

“Vespera… Why did you leave the Jedi?”

Drawing in a shaky breath, Vespera squared her shoulders. She stood and approached the camera in the right corner of the room. Placing a finger over her lips, she disabled the camera and turned to Ahsoka, whose mouth fell open.

“I’m afraid not every room in this palace is safe from watching eyes and ears.”

“I’m sorry, I should’ve—”

“It’s alright. I’ll erase the footage later.”

Anakin scowled. “What’s so dangerous about people knowing?”

“There was a time where my people were strong with the Force, but too many abused its power. Eventually, only the royal bloodline possessed a sensitivity for the Force, and anyone else born with it was exterminated. It took one queen—one Force-sensitive queen—to destroy all of that. They say she was mad, sadistic… She used the Force to do terrible things for the fun of it. To stop that from ever happening again, there was a witch hunt. And queens lost their authority.” Vespera’s lips twitched sadly. “I pay the price for being a queen. I don’t want to pay the price for my strength in the Force.”

“Why’d you even leave the Jedi, then?” Ahsoka whispered. “Master Kenobi said that Master Plo was your master. Why’d you leave if its so terrible here?”

Vespera picked at her fingernails. The young Padawan was so full of questions that demanded thoughtful answers. But to provide such answers required Vespera to dig through years of anguish that she kept buried.

“There was no heir to the throne. My sister… Princess Elysia…” Vespera swallowed the lump in her throat and raised her head. Obi-Wan, Padme, Anakin, and Ahsoka stared at her. “Elysia died. My parents knew that if I did not take my place as queen, there would be a power vacuum.”

“Oh,” Obi-Wan murmured. “That room… It was your sister’s, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.” Vespera’s shoulders dropped.

“I’m sorry.” Ahsoka’s face creased with a forlorn frown.

“I didn’t know my sister very well. I mourned the loss of the Jedi more than my sister.” Vespera smiled bitterly.

“Why’d your parents ask you back if they knew you’d just be controlled by a council and your husband?” Anakin demanded.

Vespera stiffened. Now _that_ was a question with a loaded answer. But as much as she wanted to, Vespera could not blindly trust Obi-Wan, Anakin, Padme, or Ahsoka. They still belonged to the Republic, and Vespera’s loyalties lied first and foremost with Azyrion, despite her past as a Jedi and servant of the Republic. “They would rather the royal bloodline remain in power, even with a queen.”

Anakin grimaced. “But it won’t be the Stellavis line, right?”

“It would shift to Acheron, yes,” said Vespera. The thought of bearing Callan’s children wrinkled her nose. “But we could still trace the bloodline to past monarchs. My mother came from Mandalore, but my father was part of the bloodline, and his father before him.”

“Your mother was Mandalorian?” Obi-Wan furrowed his brow.

“Yes. It was actually pretty scandalous that she and my father married,” Vespera returned to her seat. “They weren’t an arranged marriage, and she was considered an outsider.”

“You do _look_ kind of Mandalorian,” Ahsoka said, tilting her head.

“I resemble my mother more,” Vespera allowed. “My sister looked more like my father.”

“How’d your sister die?” Anakin queried around a mouthful of food.

“I’d rather not talk about it. If you’ll excuse me…” Vespera stood and left them in the dining chamber. Clutching her stomach, Vespera hurried to the security room that monitored the guest sector of the palace.

“Your majesty,” said the guard, standing.

“I’d like a moment alone, please,” Vespera breathed. The guard lingered in the doorway.

“I’m not supposed to leave—”

“I’ll only be a moment,” said Vespera. The guard ducked out reluctantly. Vespera pulled up the footage of the dining chamber. She enabled the audio.

“Really smooth, Master,” said Ahsoka, leaning back in her chair.

“I didn’t think it’d be that big of a deal!” Anakin protested. “She said she wasn’t close with her sister!”

“You’ve seen what it’s like here,” said Padme, burying her face in her hands. “Maybe she’s not allowed to discuss it.”

Obi-Wan said nothing, instead covering his mouth as he leaned forward in thought. Vespera withdrew from the live feedback and rewound the footage to Ahsoka’s question. Vespera erased the conversation and slipped out of the security room. Her heart fluttering like a trapped animal, Vespera retired to her quarters.

The sitting room appeared spotless. The cream-colored settee and couch looked fluffed, and a new bouquet of flowers garnished the white marble table. Vespera slipped past the white pillars that adorned the sides of the doorway and entered the bedchamber. The periwinkle walls and gold garnishments complimented the canopy bed and white marble floors, worlds away from the humble bedroom Vespera once occupied at the Jedi Temple.

“My lady!”

Smiling, Vespera turned and gripped the hands of her handmaiden. “Neve!”

Neve beamed at Vespera. “I leave for one day, and three Jedi crash on the planet! Are you alright?”

Vespera’s shoulders dropped as she sighed. “I believe so. I have to admit that I’m intrigued by them.”

“I’m sure the king is displeased.”

“Oh, yes. But I’ve managed to convince him to let me keep an eye on the Jedi and the Senator by investigating who shot them down.”

“Someone shot them down?”

“Yes. And unfortunately, we think whoever is responsible did so from Councilman Cathal’s estate.”

Neve sank into a chair. “That’s certainly troubling. Do you think Cathal would really do such a thing?”

Vespera snorted. “There’s no telling what the council is capable of. They’ve been getting bolder with their blatant disrespect.”

“Do you think they’ll try to seize more power?”

“They already have most of it,” laughed Vespera, though there was no real humor in her words. She crossed to the window and folded her arms. The darkness outside prevented her from glimpsing the gardens and the sea. Instead, her own reflection stared back at her.

“But you still have final say in times of war and are the face of Azyrion. You represent us in The Council of Neutral Systems. If they seize your power…”

Vespera turned. “But we were unanimous in voting for neutrality. I don’t know why my council would want me to not represent them. Unless…”

“Unless what?”

“Unless not everyone wants to remain neutral in this war. That would explain why they shot down a Republic ship.”

“Would they want to join the Separatists?”

“I have no idea,” said Vespera. “As a neutral system, we’re supposed to be loyal to the Galactic Senate. If some of the council wish to join the Separatists, then that explains why they’d shoot down a Republic ship, and why they’re so hostile to anyone of the Republic landing here.”

“Well, I hope you get to the bottom of this. I don’t want Azyrion dragged into a pointless war.”

Vespera turned back to the window and fiddled with her necklace. “Me neither.”

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Vespera met Obi-Wan, Anakin, Ahsoka, and Padme near the ship hangar of the palace. She led them down a level and toward one of the exits of the palace. Descending the steps that kissed a canal, Vespera gestured for her companions to enter a canoe-shaped aquatic cruiser. Vespera took to steering once everyone entered the craft. The cruiser sped over the canals that cut through the city before curving toward the outskirts of Azolos. Nestled in the space between the city and the forest loomed Cathal’s estate. Vespera parked the cruiser by the steps of the estate.

“You best hide yourselves and do what you do best,” Vespera said to Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Ahsoka. “Cathal won’t be happy that there are Jedi here, so do try and not get caught.”

“What will you do?” Anakin queried.

“Senator Amidala and I will distract Councilman Cathal.”

“Sounds good to me,” said Ahsoka, stretching.

“Use these,” Vespera divvied out special earpieces and commlinks. “They’re difficult to be tapped into. I don’t think anything dangerous will happen, but just in case…”

The commlinks were older, but Vespera never used any equipment more reliable. Dorian designed them a long time ago, and she trusted their reliability. Vespera and Padme split up from the Jedi and approached the front entrance of the estate. A droid greeted them and led them into a sitting parlor, where marble pillars that resembled the ones at the palace adorned the room. Sheer drapes fluttered in the breeze, leaving the parlor open to the warm elements.

While the droid vanished to retrieve Councilman Cathal, Padme leaned forward. “Anything I should know about Cathal before we meet him?”

Vespera shrugged. “He’s one of my nicer councilors, though he’s extremely traditional in his views.”

“ _How_ traditional?”

Vespera’s smile failed to reach her eyes. “I suppose you could call his misogyny _covert_.”

“Oh,” said Padme, her face dropping, “great.”

“Your majesty!” Cathal’s wavering voice interrupted Vespera’s attempt to reassure Padme. “To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”

Vespera stood to greet Cathal and gestured for Padme to follow suit. “Councilman Cathal, this is Senator Padme Amidala.”

Cathal’s dark eyes cut to Padme before meeting Vespera’s. “Your majesty, is it wise to affiliate with Republic Senators like this? It could bring the Separatists down upon us—”

“Councilman Cathal, need I remind you that while Azyrion has opted to remain neutral in this conflict, we are still part of the Galactic Senate and owe them our loyalty?”

Cathal swallowed noisily. “Yes. Of course. My sincerest apologies. Please, sit.”

Vespera returned to her seat, as did Padme. “Senator Amidala is not here of her own free will in the first place. Her ship was shot down, remember? I thought it would be nice to show her the city while her ship is getting repaired.”

“Ah, of course. The Jedi did not wish to join you?”

“They remained at the palace. The gardens there are apparently a prime spot for meditation,” Vespera lied easily. It was partly true—the gardens provided a Force-sensitive individual a serene place to connect with the Force.

Cathal narrowed his eyes. “You did not stay with them? They could be wandering about—”

“And what would they find, Cathal?”

“Nothing, of course.” Cathal twisted his plump body to the droid. “Get us some refreshments.” The droid shuffled off, and Cathal faced Padme. “How are you enjoying the city, Miss Amidala?”

Vespera narrowed her eyes at Cathal’s blatant disregard for Padme’s proper title. Padme, however, carried on as if she did not notice.

“Azolos is beautiful. It reminds me a bit of my home on Naboo.”

“Yes, I imagine so. I’ve been to Theed, and the two cities share some similarities, though our canal streets are quite the staple, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Oh, yes.”

“And Azolos is just one of many cities on Azyrion. Were you here for pleasure and not business, I would suggest you visit Verdella. The architecture there is incredibly unique and even during winter, it is one of the most beautiful places in the galaxy.”

“I can only imagine.”

The droid returned with a platter of tea. Vespera grabbed a cup and sipped from it. She nearly spat it out when Cathal said, “Tell me, Miss Amidala, do you have children?”

“Not yet, I’m afraid. I’d like to one day, but with the war, it seems like an improbable time.”

“Are you married?”

Padme’s smile froze for a fraction. “No.”

Vespera stopped, her teacup halfway to her lips. Was Cathal really doing this now? To a Republic Senator?

“I’m not sure how the system in Naboo works, but what happens when you need an heir?”

Padme’s eyes flicked to Vespera’s before she said, “Naboo elects its own leaders, so we don’t have children for heirs.”

“Ah. Azyrion does so differently. We all excitedly await the day when our queen presents us with an heir to continue her rule with King Callan.” Cathal beamed at Vespera, whose mouth twitched with the weakest smile she could muster. “Tell me, Miss Amidala—”

“ _Senator_ ,” Vespera corrected coldly. Cathal widened his eyes at her. “She is Senator Amidala.”

Cathal cleared his throat. “Senator Amidala, my apologies—”

Pounding footsteps broke off Cathal’s apology. A young man—Cathal’s son—burst into the room with Anakin and Ahsoka hot on his heels. The man knocked over a small table, shattering the teapot that the droid left for Cathal, Vespera, and Padme to refill their teacups. Obi-Wan rounded the corner and stood in the young man’s path. Anakin grabbed the man’s wrists and pinned them behind his back.

“You’re under arrest!”

“Father, help me!” cried the young man—Vespera recalled his name as Valerius—scrambling to release himself from Anakin’s grip. Cathal jumped to his feet.

“What is the meaning of this?”

“Sorry, Councilman, but Valerius here is the one who shot our ship down, and we’d like to know why.” Anakin curled his lip at Valerius.

Cathal wheeled on Vespera. “These Jedi scum have _no_ authority here, tell them—”

“They are here on _my_ authority, Cathal,” Vespera replied quietly. Cathal’s mouth fell open.

“You tricked me?”

“The council advised discretion in this investigation. Your son can either come quietly and you can keep your place on my council, or the both of you can make an uproar and you will lose every ounce of credibility you have. It’s your choice.”

Cathal bared his teeth, but went to his son and placed his hand on the young man’s shoulder. “Calm, Val. We will find a way out of this.” Cathal turned to Vespera. “King Callan will not stand for such treachery. Your days as queen are numbered.” Then, he spat on the floor at Vespera’s feet.

Obi-Wan, Anakin, Ahsoka, and Padme widened their eyes, but Vespera did not flinch, despite the heat creeping up her neck. “I would keep your threats to yourself, Cathal. You’re the one entering treacherous territory.” She turned to Obi-Wan. “Let’s interrogate him back at the palace.”

Turning away, Vespera held her head high as she returned to the cruiser. She would not let Cathal make her feel inferior, especially in front of others. But something in the back of her mind did raise its head—if Cathal could blatantly disrespect her in front of a Republic Senator, and seem sure that King Callan would take his side, what was her council planning against her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh, thank you all for such kind comments! Sorry if updates are not super fast—this is my last semester in graduate school, and I’m working on my creative writing thesis and have an exit exam coming up, so those obviously come first. I’ll try to post at least every two weeks, but you know, life comes up. Anyway, thank you guys so much for the support, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	4. Chapter Three

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows at the spit on the floor. Vespera had walked away and stood near one of the white stone pillars, her fists clenched at her sides. The Force trembled with her anger that she hid behind a cold mask, but Obi-Wan felt the crimson rage leak through the walls she hid her Force-sensitivity behind. He scrunched his brow and his chest tightened with a shallow breath. Anakin and Ahsoka handled Valerius and Cathal, leading the struggling young man to the cruiser. Obi-Wan approached Vespera, who tilted her chin skyward. A breeze fluttered a few strands of hair across her lips.

“He needs to be taken to the palace for detainment and interrogation, but I think we should investigate his room more to see if we discover who his contact on Raria might be, if he has one.”

“Anakin, Ahsoka, and I can investigate here.” Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes. Vespera seemed to want to ignore what happened, though the Force still throbbed with bright flashes of anger and anxiety, slipping through the crevices of her attempts to mask her Force-sensitivity.

“You will not be leaving those Jedi scum in my house unsupervised!” hissed Cathal.

Vespera’s eyelashes fluttered as she cut her gaze toward Cathal, who trained his gaze on Obi-Wan. The galaxy regarded Jedi differently. Some planets almost revered them, some viewed them as heroic, some as crazy wizards, some as kidnappers—an insult that Obi-Wan was not fond of—and some people hated the Jedi. Obi-Wan tensed and let the glare of Cathal deflect off his emotional shield, honed and hardened by years of serving the Jedi Order. Something tugged in Obi-Wan’s chest. It took him a moment to place it— _sympathy for Vespera_ —and once he did, an overwhelming sadness weighed on him.

“Then Masters Kenobi and Skywalker will accompany Valerius to the palace, and Senator Amidala, Padawan Ahsoka, and I will search the room.” Vespera turned to Obi-Wan. “I presume I can trust you, Master Kenobi?”

Obi-Wan dipped his head. “Of course, your majesty.”

A ghost of a twinkle appeared in Vespera’s eyes. “I do request that you wait to interrogate him, at least until we have more information.”

“Agreed.”

Vespera leaned closer, so that Cathal—who had returned to his son’s side—could not hear. “Keep an eye on Valerius. Cathal has powerful allies.”

Obi-Wan nodded and joined Anakin by the cruiser. “Ready?”

Back inside the palace with Valerius in a holding cell, Obi-Wan and Anakin stood in the hall and waited for news from Vespera, Padme, or Ahsoka.

“I knew things were rough for the queen, but I didn’t realize it was this bad.” Anakin eyed at Cathal, who spoke with a guard in hushed tones.

“Right. She wasn’t exaggerating when she said she had very few friends here.”

“The way he _spat_ at her…” Anakin grimaced.

“I know,” Obi-Wan furrowed his brow. To disrespect a _queen_ like that… Obi-Wan’s commlink beeped. He raised his wrist and answered the call.

“Good news,” Vespera’s voice announced, “we found evidence that Valerius was communicating with someone on Raria. Ahsoka was able to track the signal to the general vicinity of the person’s location.”

“I’m not sure if that’s good news or just steps to advance our investigation,” Obi-Wan smirked.

“Have you interrogated Valerius yet?”

“Not yet,” said Obi-Wan. Cathal’s voice raised to a shout at the guards. “You ought to hurry back. I’m not sure Anakin and I are enough to handle the politics here.”

“Are you always in need of rescuing, Master Kenobi?” The smile in Vespera’s voice piqued another smirk from Obi-Wan.

“Apparently only on Azyrion.” Obi-Wan’s mirth vanished when Anakin raised a brow. Obi-Wan ended the comm, and thanked the Force that Anakin chose not to comment on the exchange with Vespera. There was nothing wrong with healthy banter.

When Vespera, Padme, and Ahsoka arrived, King Callan also butted into the investigation. Obi-Wan and his companions stood off to the side while Callan leered down at Vespera. Something about the way Callan’s lip curled when regarding his wife made Obi-Wan’s stomach churn. He sensed the unease from his friends, too.

“You can’t do this to Valerius,” Callan seethed.

Vespera raised her chin defiantly. “Yes, I can. He isn’t above the law.”

“He’s the son of a _councilman_.”

“And that puts him above the law?” Vespera challenged. Callan shrank back, though he still bore the ghost of a snarl on his lip. Vespera folded her arms. “Valerius is guilty of breaking the law, and will be handled accordingly.”

Callan lifted a spider-like finger in Vespera’s face. “You won’t have me to get you out of this one.”

After Callan swept off, Padme approached Vespera and placed a hand on the queen’s arm. “Your husband isn’t exactly the romantic type, I see.”

Vespera stared ahead. “I don’t believe the state of my marriage is appropriate for discussion.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” Padme withdrew her hand.

Vespera squared her shoulders. “It seems that everything points back to Raria. If you’re to investigate, you’ll need me to accompany you.”

Her anxiety oozed past the block around her aura. Despite her best efforts to hide her Force-sensitivity, her resolve was cracking. Obi-Wan’s stomach twisted. Hopefully the presence of three Jedi had not opened Vespera back up to the Force and endangered her. Or perhaps it was not them at all, but the anxiety that Raria caused. What could be so bad about this moon that had Vespera’s anxiety bleeding through the Force?

“Do we need to prepare for a fight?” Anakin queried.

“Unlikely, but with everything tracing back to Raria… I’m concerned that it might be possible.”

“Well, in the meantime, we should figure out why Valerius shot our ship down in the first place,” said Obi-Wan, stroking his beard.

“That might be a problem,” said Ahsoka, her eyes trained past Obi-Wan and Vespera. Turning, Cathal and another man approached.

“Kriff,” muttered Vespera. She flashed a smile at the two men. “Councilman Cathal, Esidor, we have not had the opportunity to interrogate Valerius yet.”

The other man—some sort of lawyer, by the look of him—stepped around a fuming Cathal. “Your majesty, if I may, Councilman Cathal has requested I represent his son in this case.”

“Which you are in your right to do—”

“You are not letting these spoon-benders use their tricks on my son!” Cathal seethed, pointing a gnarled finger in Vespera’s face.

 _Spoon-benders_? Obi-Wan exchanged a glance with Anakin and Ahsoka. _That_ was certainly a new one.

“I will be present with them.” Vespera sounded like she was trying hard not to laugh.

“Are you mocking me?” Cathal tried to push past the lawyer—Esidor—but Vespera remained nonplussed.

Esidor thrust his arm out to the side. “I will be present as well. We don’t want the wizards using any tricks to force a confession.”

“That’s not how the Force works!” Ahsoka scoffed.

“They’re Jedi,” snapped Vespera, “and I can assure you, they want the truth as much as I do. You may be present Esidor, but Cathal must remain out here.”

But the interrogation turned out just as much of a dead end as everything else on Azyrion. Not only did they not have anything on why they were shot down, but they were still no closer to finding out how exactly Padme’s ship got sent into the heart of a battlefield.

“This is pointless,” snapped Anakin. “We’re not getting anywhere in this investigation.”

“I’m sorry,” Vespera murmured.

“Your highness,” Ahsoka gestured. Vespera turned. King Callan stood at the end of the hall, beckoning for Vespera to join him. Her shoulders tensed, and without a farewell, she left Obi-Wan and his companions.

“She’s hiding something,” Anakin decided.

“What could she possibly be hiding?” Obi-Wan frowned.

“I don’t know, but I sense it. Don’t tell me you don’t sense something weird about this place or her, too?” Anakin pushed past Obi-Wan and trekked down the corridor.

In truth, Obi-Wan did sense something weird about the planet. The Force hummed with a vibrancy that not many other planets shared. There was something weird about Vespera, too. Mostly, Obi-Wan sensed her walls to keep everyone out. But he also sensed that she carried secrets, dark and heavy ones, that burdened her heart and exuded sorrow into the Force. But what could possibly cause that?

“Master, where are you going?” Ahsoka demanded.

“To find out what she’s hiding.” Anakin hurried off.

Padme shrugged. “We better go with him.”

Wandering a palace without knowing it and without knowing what they were looking for proved almost hopeless. But Obi-Wan relied on the Force to guide them. Whatever they needed to find—if anything—they would.

“Are they even repairing our ship?” Anakin muttered to himself after several minutes of wandering.

“We have been here a long time,” Padme admitted. They turned another corner, and another, and then up a staircase and down another corridor.

“You have no idea where you’re going, do you?” Ahsoka tilted her head and lifted a brow at the back of Anakin’s head.

He twisted and extended his arms. “I’m following my instincts.”

“Uh-huh. And did your instincts mean to lead you to a dead end?” Ahsoka gestured at the end of the corridor, where a massive, open doorway led to a library.

Anakin’s face brightened. “Wait, that’s perfect! Where better to find what she’s hiding than an archive?”

Obi-Wan’s frown deepened. “If she is hiding something from us, I doubt she kept it on record for easy accessibility.”

“She’s hiding something about Raria. Maybe there’s some information on why Vespera’s so scared of that place.”

The library yawned before them. Inside, it was even more vast. Bookshelves lined the walls from floor to ceiling. A landing upstairs allowed for perusal of the upper sections of the library. Stars decorated the navy ceiling. Placed at every few bookshelves was a research terminal station that resembled the ones at the Jedi Archives. Rows upon rows of datacards and other sources of information were placed in the center of the library. The outer edges of the library—the one with bookshelves stretching toward the ceiling—contained real, paper books. Vespera must be a collector, because Obi-Wan had not seen so many paper books in one place before.

“We can’t possibly sort through all of this,” Obi-Wan murmured.

“Let’s split up. Anything you can find on Raria within the last—how old is Vespera?”

“Anakin—”

“I’m guessing about early thirties, if she knew you as a Padawan,” Anakin plunged on, dismissing Obi-Wan’s hesitance. “So look for information on Raria occurring within the last thirty years or so.”

Anakin, Padme, and Ahsoka dispersed. Obi-Wan’s shoulders slumped and he shook his head. Always on the move. They never slowed down, even level-headed Padme. Anakin and Ahsoka could at least try and use the Force a bit more. With a sigh, Obi-Wan reached out and allowed the Force to guide him through the library. Part of him hoped they found nothing. Vespera was entitled to her own secrets. However, if those secrets directly betrayed the Republic…

In a quiet corner of the library filled with datacards, the Force blanketed Obi-Wan in comfort. Safety. Familiarity. Peaceful. Stretching his fingers out, Obi-Wan grabbed a datacard and his heart dropped into his stomach. _Queen Vespera Nuelle Stellavis-Acheron: The Bloodborne Queen_.

Obi-Wan approached a research terminal. _Bloodborne_ scratched into his brain.

“Anakin.”

Anakin, Padme, and Ahsoka joined after a few moments. Obi-Wan inserted the datacard, which revealed different files. Here was Vespera’s reign, divided into neat categories of her accomplishments.

“Civil War?” Ahsoka gestured.

Anakin opened the file. HoloNet articles and holorecordings showed bombings, a younger Vespera on the frontlines of a battle—the first queen to ever do so—a vicious battle between Queen Vespera and Lady Lorelei of Raria that ended in Lorelei’s incarceration. A holorecording of the day that catalyzed the war blinked into view: Vespera, about ten years younger, stood on a platform with the then king and queen of Azyrion, her parents. An assassin took out the king and queen, leaving Vespera to kneel at their sides. When she rose from their bodies, blood covered her hands, the new queen of Azyrion.

Padme placed a hand over her heart. “What a terrible way to become queen.”

“This explains why she’s nervous about Raria being involved,” said Anakin, withdrawing from the terminal. “She’s scared of another uprising.”

“If we find out that Raria does have the backing of the Separatists, that would make this more than just an internal affair for Azyrion.” Obi-Wan stroked his beard, unable to tear his eyes away from the blue holographic image of young Vespera, covered in blood.

“The Republic would have no choice but to get involved,” Padme agreed.

Ahsoka folded her arms. “I have a feeling Vespera won’t like that.”

“ _That’s_ why she’s been hiding this,” said Anakin, looking rather smug. “She doesn’t want another war or for the Republic to get involved because she wants to remain neutral.”

“Can you blame her?” Padme put her hands on her hips.

Anakin shook his head. “We should talk to her. This affects us—someone tried to kill Padme twice! No matter the queen’s personal feelings and fears, she shouldn’t hide this from the Republic.”

“Anakin, where in the blazes are you going?” Obi-Wan demanded.

“To confront the queen!”

It did not take them long to find Vespera, because she had been looking for them, too. Obi-Wan sensed the anger rolling off of Anakin in bright red waves. The Force flashed around him in jagged edges. Of course. Whenever Padme seemed to be in danger, Anakin’s emotional response looked like this. Or rather, felt like it in the Force. Obi-Wan placed a hand on Anakin’s shoulder.

“Anakin—”

Anakin shrugged Obi-Wan off and pointed a finger at Vespera. “I _knew_ you were hiding something from us!”

Vespera widened her eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“The war with Raria! You didn’t tell us about it, and that’s information that directly affects our investigation!”

Although Vespera usually masked her feelings behind that solid wall to disguise her Force-sensitivity, Obi-Wan felt her composure crack. Red anger flared and stabbed through the cracks of her walls, anger to rival Anakin’s. Oh dear.

“Why should I just divulge everything to you? I don’t trust you or the Republic, butting in wherever you see fit because you think it’s right and just! The Republic is _not_ the galaxy’s police force, and anything concerning Raria is an internal affair for Azyrion.”

“Unless they’re working with the Separatists to attack Padme!” Anakin barked.

“If someone on Raria is allying with the Separatists in any way, they’ll be dealt with. But Azyrion’s business with Raria is _my_ business, not yours, General Skywalker.” Vespera turned on her heel and stalked away, fists clenched at her sides.

Anakin turned and frowned. “What?”

“Anakin, we need her help, and that would work best if she _doesn’t_ hate us,” Padme placed a hand to her forehead.

“I didn’t hear any of you complaining when we were snooping or just now,” Anakin glowered.

Ahsoka sighed and looked around at the adults. “Well, what now?”

“Yeah, she seems to like you, Obi-Wan. Why don’t you go talk to her?” Anakin’s anger gave way to amusement.

Obi-Wan sighed and shook his head, but chased after Vespera. When he caught up to her, he grabbed her gently by the arm. “Vespera, allow me to apologize for Anakin—”

Vespera jerked her arm from his grasp. “Do you always apologize _for_ him, or is he capable of taking responsibility?”

Obi-Wan blinked and withdrew slightly. “Anakin is very capable. I have to admit, all of us were curious about what you were hiding. Anakin was looking out for Senator Amidala and the Republic, just as you are protecting Azyrion. We all have reasons for not trusting one another.”

Vespera’s eyes cut to a security camera and then away from Obi-Wan. She opened up a glass door to the side and stepped out onto a balcony overlooking the gardens. She gripped the balustrade. Obi-Wan followed her, hands clasped behind his back and brow furrowed. They were out of range of the camera, free to speak.

“There was a time when we trusted each other. We need to again if we’re to get to the bottom of this,” Obi-Wan insisted earnestly. Vespera’s brow creased and she turned her head away. Obi-Wan leaned closer. “As one Jedi to another.”

Vespera looked at him sharply, and their noses brushed. Obi-Wan drew back, the pain in Vespera’s eyes cutting into his heart. “I’m not a Jedi anymore.”

Her voice wavered, and Obi-Wan’s stomach lurched with another stab of pity for Vespera. “I’m not sure if one can ever truly stop being a Jedi.”

He tried to imagine growing up in the Temple, with the Order to always fall back on, only to leave and rejoin a family he never knew, and to try and forget his identity as a Jedi. All he could envision for that kind of future was darkness, a void. It wasn’t possible for him.

“To be a Jedi alone is more painful than you can imagine.”

Vespera’s life seemed like a nightmare. She had chosen not to cut herself off from the Force. Instead, she hid her abilities. That told Obi-Wan that this woman still felt like a Jedi at heart. This was someone who obviously missed being a Jedi, suffocating in a loveless marriage most likely forced upon her, a crown crushing her head, with not a friend in the world—Obi-Wan wouldn’t wish that fate upon anyone. This was someone who he trained alongside, who stressed out about it with him, made jokes to make things easier, fantasized about becoming a Jedi, and passed the trials to become a Knight before him. This was someone who would’ve made an incredible Jedi—maybe even a Master on the Council. No, Obi-Wan mused with a smile, Vespera probably wouldn’t have wanted that. She was much like Qui-Gon in that regard, or even Quinlan Vos. She should’ve been a Jedi, not a queen.

Obi-Wan placed a hand on her shoulder. “You’re not alone. The Force will be with you always.”

Vespera slid her watery gaze to his. A sad smile toyed with her lips. “The Force isn’t much of a talker.”

Obi-Wan smirked. “Maybe you’re not listening hard enough.”

“Perhaps.”

Obi-Wan removed his hand. “Why didn’t you tell us about Raria? What are you so afraid of?”

“What do you want to know, Obi-Wan? That my cousin and I were pitted against one another in a war, that I chose to lock her away, that my parents were assassinated in front of me on her orders? I’m sure you and your friends dug all of that up in the archives.” Vespera turned her gaze back toward the gardens, hugging herself.

As a Jedi, Vespera was happy. Confident. Here, she seemed so _small_. Obi-Wan’s eyes widened. “You’re ashamed.”

Vespera’s eyes snapped to Obi-Wan’s, and he braced himself for a scathing retort, for her to argue like Anakin. Instead, her shoulders slumped and she bowed her head. “It’s true what they say: politicians get their hands dirty.”

“I’m sure you did what you had to do.”

Vespera snorted. “Oh, yes. Of course…” She placed a hand over her stomach. A fresh wave of cerulean sadness leaked into the Force. Obi-Wan’s throat swelled at the feelings bleeding through the cracks of Vespera’s walls. But just as the overwhelming sadness seemed ready to break Vespera’s walls completely, she blocked Obi-Wan out. Straightening and squaring her shoulders, Vespera offered Obi-Wan a smile. “I’ll have a ship prepared to go to Raria. Meet in the hangar in an hour.”

Obi-Wan parted his lips, but Vespera walked away. As he left the corridor, Obi-Wan forced himself to release the tension in his body. Speaking with Vespera seemed to have this effect on him.

What could Vespera have done that caused her so much sorrow that it bled through her Force walls, like tears desperately held back? Whenever she did smile, sadness cracked through it. There was a time when Vespera smiled and seemed truly carefree. In the Jedi Temple, Obi-Wan practiced saber dueling with Vespera from time to time. She used to grin as they dueled, egging the other on, or taunting each other. Whenever he passed by her in the halls, Vespera offered him a grin and a little wave, which Obi-Wan always returned.

_Obi-Wan gathered up his readings assigned to him by Master Qui-Gon. As much as he enjoyed missions, Obi-Wan liked the stillness of the Jedi Archives, where he could read in peace. But today, the Archives were rather busy. There were no tables that weren’t unoccupied. Obi-Wan approached a familiar blonde head, a smile quirking the corners of his mouth._

_“May I sit with you?” Obi-Wan gestured to the empty seat at the table._

_Vespera looked up at him and offered him a sweet smile. “Of course. Here, let me move my stuff.”_

Obi-Wan sighed. Now it seemed that Vespera carried sadness with her everywhere. When Obi-Wan returned to the others, his mind spun. He needed to meditate, to quiet his thoughts, but Anakin had other plans.

“How’d it go?”

“We’re still going to Raria. She didn’t seem angry anymore.”

Anakin relaxed, but his brow furrowed, sensing the busyness of Obi-Wan’s mind. Blast the bond between master and apprentice. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing that relates to our mission,” Obi-Wan said shortly. Anakin scowled, but did not raise any further questions. Obi-Wan closed his eyes and allowed the Force to wash over him, and quieted his mind to rid it of any anxious thoughts. They had a job to do, and Obi-Wan needed to stay focused.

An hour later, they met Vespera in the hangar. Free of her circlet crown and gown, Vespera looked more like a Jedi in civilian clothes and a messy braid. She greeted them with a tight smile.

“General Skywalker, I hear you’re a skilled pilot.” Vespera fell in-step with Anakin, who eyed her with a lifted brow.

“The best,” he said with a sheepish grin.

“Then you can fly the ship,” replied Vespera. They boarded a small ship, and Anakin took his seat in the captain’s chair. Vespera sat beside him as the co-pilot.

“You can fly?” Anakin queried.

Vespera’s lips twitched. “I know my way around.”

“You’re full of surprises, your majesty.”

“I like to keep people on their toes.”

Obi-Wan sat in the chair directly behind Anakin, while Padme sat behind Vespera. Ahsoka sat behind Obi-Wan, folding her arms with a slight pout at being pushed to the back. Once the ship exited Azyrion’s atmosphere, and Anakin piloted it toward the moon of Raria, Anakin swiveled in his seat to face Vespera.

“Anything we should expect here?”

Vespera’s jaw tightened for a moment. “On Azyrion, I have very few friends. On Raria, I have even fewer.”

“Because of the war?” Anakin prodded.

Vespera’s shoulders tensed. Obi-Wan furrowed his brow and leaned forward. Vespera lowered her gaze, but Anakin continued to stare at her. “Yes. How much do you know of it?”

Anakin rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh, that you and Lady Lorelei were cousins fighting for the throne, that she had your parents assassinated… And you led people into battle yourself.”

“You had her locked up, right?” Ahsoka queried from the back.

“Yes. For a time, only someone I appointed was allowed to be the Prime Minister of Raria, but I didn’t want the people to feel controlled or exiled, so I let them elect their own leaders. Unfortunately, the war is still fresh on people’s minds, which makes me unpopular.”

“Wait, if Lady Lorelei is eligible for the throne, why did you have to leave the Jedi?” Ahsoka queried.

Vespera rotated in her seat and lifted an eyebrow. “Remember how I told you lineage is important? Lorelei is not part of the Stellavis line. Not to mention that she is rather bloodthirsty. Some call her mad.”

“Oh.”

“Coming up on Raria,” announced Anakin. He steered the ship toward the landing pad. Vespera led the way off the ship. Obi-Wan reached out with the Force, but he hit a wall around Vespera. So _that’s_ why she said to meet in an hour. She didn’t need an hour to change, she needed it to meditate to reinforce the walls around her to keep her emotions and Force-sensitivity from leaking through. As if sensing him tapping on her walls, Vespera cut Obi-Wan a sharp glare. Obi-Wan snorted quietly as heat prickled up the back of his neck. Of course, Vespera felt him reaching out with the Force occasionally. Of course, it probably felt rather violating, or at least annoying. He withdrew his presence as an elegantly dressed man approached.

“Your majesty, to what do I owe the pleasure?” The man bowed to Vespera, and she dipped her head in greeting.

“Prime Minister Aleksey, I’m afraid we’re here on grave business. We need to find where this signal leads.” Vespera handed over a datacard to Aleksey.

His brow puckered as he examined it, but gestured for them to follow him into the visitation center. Sticking the datacard into a terminal, Aleksey pulled up a holographic map of Raria. He pointed to where a beacon blinked with a wide radius. “Whoever received this signal did not want to be found. The signal pinged off several areas within the vicinity of each other to sow doubt on the true location. But it looks like here, on the Eastern Cliffsides, is where you’ll find the source.”

“Thank you, Prime Minister.”

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

They borrowed a set of speeders and Vespera led the way to the Eastern Cliffsides. Raria’s terrain was much rockier than Azyrion’s. Mountains loomed in the distance. The moon was beautiful, but in a cold, almost foreboding way. And just like on Azyrion, the Force felt strangely charged here. Vespera sped along a winding pathway along a cliff’s edge. Eventually, she stopped. Obi-Wan dismounted his speeder.

“We should divide the group,” said Vespera, “but no one should go off alone. Once we start climbing down, we’ll run into the mine entrance. We’ll split up there to cover more ground. Do you all still have the comms I gave you?”

“Yep,” said Anakin, flashing his. “You think they’re in the mines?”

“It’s the only explanation,” said Vespera, turning to gaze past the cliff. “That’s the only interesting point here.”

“Let’s get going,” said Anakin, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Vespera dipped her head and led the way along the path that descended the cliff. She hugged the wall of the cliff, and Obi-Wan followed directly behind her. Padme slipped behind Obi-Wan, followed by Ahsoka, with Anakin taking up the rear. At first, the path seemed easy. Then, it started to narrow until Obi-Wan wanted to flatten himself against the cliff’s wall. The wind whistled in his ears and blew his hair about his face. The cold sea crashed against the rocks below. To fall would make an unpleasant death.

“Are you sure this is the right way?” Anakin called.

“Yes!” Vespera called back. She held up a hand to signal everyone to stop. “Careful!”

Grabbing a chain screwed into the stone, Vespera stepped onto a wooden plank and shuffled along the cliff’s edge. Obi-Wan’s stomach lurched. He grabbed the chain and shuffled beside Vespera. The plank groaned underneath his feet.

“The mines are closed, right?”

“Yes.”

“I see why,” Obi-Wan grimaced and forced himself to not look down. They shuffled along as the cliff curved, and then Vespera dropped onto a walkway extending wide enough to give comfort. Obi-Wan dropped beside her. “Well, _that_ was not the most pleasant hike I’ve had.”

Padme looked a little pale as she dropped beside Obi-Wan. Ahsoka cringed as she peeked over the edge of the walkway. Anakin joined them, his hair ruffled from the wind.

“Miners did that every day?”

“At one point,” said Vespera. She continued to lead them until they arrived at the mouth of a cave. Inside, no one spoke until the cave diverged into separate paths. Vespera turned to them. “No one should go off alone. These mines are a labyrinth, and its easy to get lost.”

“Alright. Padme, Ahsoka, and I will take the left one. Obi-Wan, you go with the queen.”

“Right,” Obi-Wan nodded. Anakin, Padme, and Ahsoka disappeared down the left passage. Obi-Wan drew his lightsaber and ignited it before heading down the right passage with Vespera, who checked their tracking device every so often, as if to make sure it still existed. “You don’t seem very hopeful.”

Vespera cast him a look. The blue glow of Obi-Wan’s lightsaber reflected in Vespera’s eyes so powerfully that he could not make out their true color. “The mines could lead anywhere. Even if the person who received Valerius’s transmission were here, they could be long gone by now.”

“Let’s hope they’re not that smart, then.”

They continued their walk in silence, picking their way along the abandoned tracks of the mining shaft. The darkness pressed around them, almost pushing them together. Obi-Wan walked so closely to Vespera that their shoulders bumped every now and then. The rocky interior of the mining shaft protruded in some places, causing Obi-Wan to squeeze closer to Vespera. Then, the shaft broadened, opening into a crossway. Empty tunnels led in different directions.

“Val was a kriffin’ idiot.”

Obi-Wan deactivated his lightsaber. Vespera pulled him to the side, and they crouched behind a rock, straining their eyes in the darkness.

“He was just trying to warn us.”

“Yeah, but we’ll have the Republic all over us like flies on a bantha. They’re going to investigate. You can’t shoot down a Republic ship and _not_ expect consequences.”

Two men entered the cavern, carrying a light and boxes of equipment. They trekked toward one of the tunnels.

“The queen planned for this, though. She knew this would happen, and now we’re prepared.”

The queen? Vespera planned for this? Obi-Wan’s stomach twisted as the voices faded. Then, he wheeled on Vespera.

“What did you plan for, exactly?”

“I didn’t plan for anything. Obi-Wan, you have to believe me. I have no idea what those two were talking about!”

Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes. “From the sounds of it, you know exactly what is going on. You’ve led us into a trap, haven’t you?”

Vespera’s breath tickled Obi-Wan’s face. He hadn’t realized how close she was. Suddenly, she grabbed his hand, and a wave from the Force crashed over Obi-Wan—Vespera had allowed her walls to crumble and let Obi-Wan in. “I’m telling the truth. I don’t know what they were talking about.”

He sensed Vespera’s anxiety—it made his own heart race—and her confusion. He didn’t sense a lie. Underneath all of that, Obi-Wan felt a deep blue sense of loneliness. He withdrew his hand from hers. “Alright. Let’s find out what they were talking about, then.”

Obi-Wan led the way through the tunnel that the two men exited. As they walked, Obi-Wan rubbed his hand. Being exposed to someone’s emotions—connecting with them through the Force—was an intimacy that was hard to prepare for. But Vespera had already refortified her walls in the Force, blocking Obi-Wan out. He clenched his jaw. If those men weren’t talking about Vespera as their queen, then who did they mean?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your patience! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and thank you to everyone who has supported this story! Please leave a comment letting me know what you thought! 😊


	5. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Depictions of domestic violence/abuse (mild, but it’s there).

Vespera matched Obi-Wan’s pace in the darkness. He had yet to reignite his saber, in case anyone else came back. The glow of lights illuminated the end of the tunnel, though it was dim. They crept along, but those two men’s words sent chills down her spine: _The queen planned for this, though. She knew this would happen, and now we’re prepared_.

They certainly hadn’t been talking about Vespera—she had no idea what was going on—but she did have an idea as to _who_ those men referred to as their queen. Vespera hoped she was wrong.

The end of the tunnel opened into rounded cavern. Electrical lights circled along the top of the walls. Cluttered around the room was equipment that was in the middle of being cleared out. Terminals, weapons, datapads… Some sort of operation got interrupted, and judging by the conversation of the two men earlier, Vespera, Obi-Wan, Anakin, Ahsoka, and Padme were the ones to blame.

Vespera searched through the crates, though she wasn’t entirely sure what she was looking for. Obi-Wan searched on the other side of the room. She hoped his judgment was less crowded than hers at the moment. All the arrows pointed in a direction that Vespera didn’t like, and her stomach still churned from opening herself to Obi-Wan like that. She hadn’t shared a connection with someone through the Force in _years_. She was used to her walls—safe behind them—and letting Obi-Wan into her mind, even for a brief moment, left her feeling dazed and _weird_. An odd hollowness plucked at her heart, as if the sudden allowance of another person to connect with her only to rip away immediately was painful.

Something cold and metallic caused Vespera to withdraw her hand. It didn’t feel like any sort of military equipment. She plunged her hand back into the crate and felt for the object. A ridged surface, a delicate chain… Vespera closed her hand around the object and withdrew it. She opened her hand and stopped breathing.

It was a pendant, made of crystals found deep in Azyrion’s caves. Vespera ran her thumb over the surface, letting out a shaky breath. Her heart slammed in her chest, and her breath seemed to curl and cling to the walls of her throat.

“ _Dorian_ …?” Tears pricked her eyes.

She must’ve let her guard down in the Force, because Obi-Wan seemed to sense her intense feelings. “Did you find something?”

Vespera clenched her fist and opened her mouth, but no sound came out. How did she explain _this_?

“I—”

The sound of footsteps stuttering in their path saved her from trying to formulate a response. A man stood at the entrance of the room, though darkness shrouded most of his face. For a moment, no one moved. Then, the man took off running back down the tunnel. Vespera jumped to her feet, stuffing the pendant into her pocket, and chased after him.

“Vespera!” Obi-Wan called, but Vespera kept running after the man. She _needed_ answers, and capturing one of the goons involved in all this was their best bet—

The man fired a blaster bolt in Vespera’s direction. Her Jedi training didn’t fail her; she dodged just in time. The buzz of Obi-Wan’s lightsaber sounded behind her, and the clash of his deflection of the blaster bolt told Vespera that he was behind her. Vespera pushed on, chasing the man—who continued to fire shots in Vespera’s direction—blindly through the mining tunnels. Right, left, left, right and up—Vespera logged the direction for when they needed to get back.

The man climbed up a ledge and hurried along a broken-down walkway. The ground here was uneven and unsteady. Vespera hurried along the walkway. The man stopped at the end of the bridge, pointed his blaster above Vespera’s head, and fired. The old support beam knocked loose immediately and came crashing down. Vespera backpedaled to avoid getting crushed by the beam and loose rocks, but the debris crashed through the broken-down bridge, and she fell with a cry.

A strong hand caught hers, and something flowed between her and the person—she immediately recognized Obi-Wan in the Force—with an intense electrical current that blossomed in Vespera’s veins. The Force flowed between Vespera’s and Obi-Wan’s gripped hands, passing through their bodies like water. She felt Obi-Wan’s emotions along with her own, and were she not dangling over a chasm for dear life and could concentrate, she could hear Obi-Wan’s thoughts.

Obi-Wan pulled Vespera up onto the ledge beside him. They stood, still gripping hands, panting. For the first time in years, Vespera felt the Force. Oh, she had never cut herself off. But in all her blocking others out, and hiding her abilities, and pretending her past as a Jedi never existed, she had dulled her connection to the Force. She had refused to dip into it, scared someone might discover her secret. For years, she’d been terrified of being an ex-Jedi, a Jedi alone, so she had pretended that her lies of being sent to school off-world were real.

But now, she was _open_.

The Force flowed through her as if a dam had broken, crashing through her veins and overwhelming her senses. She sensed the small critters scuttling in the darkness as if they crawled across her skin. The coldness and darkness of the tunnels felt less empty and whispered with flashes of warmth and light. She did not need a lightsaber for a light source—she could use the Force and sense her surroundings. Outside, Vespera sensed the biting cold of Raria, felt the energy of the sea rearing up and crashing against the cliff’s edge.

On top of all _that_ , Vespera felt Obi-Wan.

He felt like a warm patch of sunlight on a cold day. He was vanilla and peppermint, a hint of blaster fire, gentle with the hum of something fierce underneath. The Force was calm around him, a peace that Vespera was not accustomed to in her brutal world of politics. He radiated with warmth and light, and his emotions swirled around Vespera as if they were her own, and if she pushed—if she reached out with the Force—she could sense his thoughts—

Vespera jerked her hand away. The flowing of energy between them dulled, but did not go away. Obi-Wan’s emotions churned brightly, still available for Vespera to read and sense as if they were her own. Shock, confusion, anxiety, awe—they crashed through Obi-Wan in extraordinary colors of deep orange to pale yellow. Frantically, Vespera refortified her walls, blocking Obi-Wan out as best she could. But even she felt the cracks in her composure.

“We should go.” Vespera pushed past Obi-Wan, rubbing the hand that he held moments before. As she led the way out of the tunnels, Vespera withdrew Dorian’s pendant. Was he still alive?

No. It was impossible. No one survived Raria’s bombing of the refugee center during the war. Dorian had been volunteering, and there had been no survivors. Vespera’s council told her so.

Her _council_.

Of course, they could’ve lied. They could’ve paid off the other soldiers and any witnesses to confirm what they said about Dorian’s death.

No, Vespera wouldn’t entertain the idea that Dorian was alive. He wouldn’t have abandoned her. Somehow, someone got ahold of his pendant and placed it to toy with Vespera’s feelings and mind. They were trying to rattle her, and she was letting them. For some reason, someone wanted Vespera to think that Dorian was actually alive.

A wave of agony surged through Vespera’s chest, and her eyes prickled with tears. But she blinked them away and swallowed the lump in her throat. This was not the time. Stuffing the pendant back into her pocket, Vespera held her head high. Once Obi-Wan and the others left Azyrion, Vespera needed to check and make sure someone was still imprisoned.

When they finally exited the tunnels and returned to their speeders, Vespera and Obi-Wan found Anakin, Padme, and Ahsoka already waiting for them.

“Oh, good,” said Anakin, his arms crossed as he leaned against his speeder, “I was beginning to think you didn’t get my message.”

“I didn’t get it,” said Obi-Wan.

“Then you have perfect timing,” said Padme.

“Yeah, I’d hate to have to go and rescue you _again_ , Master.”

“You know, I could tell a few stories about _my_ rescuing _you_ that would be quite embarrassing for you,” said Obi-Wan, folding his arms and lifting a brow. How he could seem so nonchalant after what they just experienced, Vespera had no idea. Her heart sank. Perhaps he had not felt the same things she had. After all, he was a fully-fledged Jedi Master, and probably experienced things such as this all the time. His skills surpassed hers.

“Anyway,” cut in Padme, “I hope you guys had more luck than we did.”

“I believe there’s some sort of underground Separatist operation going on here,” said Obi-Wan, stroking his beard.

Vespera snapped out of her reverie. “What?”

“You disagree?”

“ _Heavily_ ,” Vespera snapped. Anakin and Padme exchanged a glance as Vespera glared at Obi-Wan. Bewilderment spiked around him in pale orange petals. Vespera lessened her intensity only because her own confusion thickened—why were Obi-Wan’s emotions so open to her? Why could she _see_ them so vividly?

“Uh, wanna explain?” Anakin prompted.

Vespera’s hands curled into fists at her sides. “There was no evidence to suggest that they were involved with the Separatists—”

“The equipment they were moving suggests otherwise, Vespera,” Obi-Wan argued. “They had military-grade technology. They couldn’t make that on their own.”

“In case all of you forgot, Azyrion went to war with Raria. We have our own military—”

“I recognized some of the designs,” said Obi-Wan. His brow furrowed and his eyes searched hers. Reluctance edged around him, and Vespera drew back. Obi-Wan didn’t _want_ to be right about this.

Vespera sighed. “That still doesn’t mean that they’re working for the Separatists, or that this is a Separatist plot. Maybe they are funding this group, but I really don’t believe the Separatists have anything to do with all of this.”

“Why shoot down our ship, then?” demanded Anakin.

“And why did someone on Raria send me the coordinates to a battlefield?” Padme added.

“If I didn’t know any better, it would seem like you people _want_ my system to be guilty of conspiring with the Separatists,” Vespera gritted out.

“We don’t want that,” insisted Obi-Wan.

“But you have to admit, a lot of the evidence points that someone here is conspiring with the Separatists,” said Anakin.

“A lot of the evidence we found _did_ point here,” Ahsoka piped up.

“I know,” Vespera replied, suddenly feeling exhausted.

“What about that other queen we heard those men talking about?” Obi-Wan queried.

“Let’s get back to the ship. We’re not safe out in the open like this.” Vespera straddled her speeder and refused to say another word until the others had gotten on their speeders, too. Then, Vespera led the way back to the ship.

***

“Okay, so, what did you mean about a second queen?” Anakin asked once on the ship.

Obi-Wan quickly filled in the others on what he and Vespera found in the cave. He left out the moment where the Force flowed between them so powerfully that it left them both stunned. Vespera’s heart sank even further. Maybe it had all been in her head? Or maybe it had not been as intense for Obi-Wan as it had been for her?

Vespera bit back the urge to ask him about it. Now was not the time, nor place.

“I have an idea as to who they were referring to,” Vespera croaked when she realized all eyes rested on her. “But that is an internal affair, one the Republic Senate isn’t privy to.”

“And if you’re wrong, and there’s a Separatist plot going on right under your nose?” Anakin challenged.

Vespera smiled dryly. “Well, it isn’t exactly happening under my nose anymore, is it?”

Ahsoka crossed her arms. “So, what now?”

“If this is an internal affair, then we go home,” said Padme.

“If it turns out that I am wrong, you’ll be the first I contact,” Vespera promised.

“I hate to leave you with such a mess,” said Padme, her lips drawing with a frown.

“If I’m right about my theory, then this isn’t your mess. It’s one my parents left me with.” Vespera failed to bring herself to look anyone in the eye. In her pocket, she thumbed Dorian’s pendant.

When they landed and exited the Azyrionian cruiser, they found King Callan awaiting them in the hangar. He smiled, and Vespera’s stomach twisted. Callan never looked this cheerful.

“I’m glad you’re all back safely. And good news: The Republic ship is fully repaired,” he greeted. “I’m afraid our Jedi friends have been called away on an urgent mission. I’m afraid they can no longer stay with us.”

The way Callan said _friends_ sent a chill down Vespera’s back.

“Convenient,” muttered Ahsoka under her breath.

The corners of Vespera’s mouth twitched, but her heart plummeted even further. Some part of her wished Obi-Wan, Anakin, Padme, and Ahsoka could stay and help her investigate this internal affair. It was the closest Vespera had felt to being a Jedi in a long time.

“I will escort them,” said Vespera, dipping her head to Callan. His upper lip twitched and Vespera tensed, but Callan merely nodded and swept away.

With a hollow ache in her chest, Vespera walked with Anakin, Padme, Ahsoka, and Obi-Wan to _The Twilight_.

“If I discover anything else about who tried to kill Senator Amidala or why Valerius shot down your ship, I will let you know immediately. You have my word,” said Vespera, her gaze settling on Padme, who nodded. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be more helpful.”

Padme’s lips twitched. “Thank you for trying.”

Anakin placed his hands on his hips. “Thanks for having my ship repaired, even though it didn’t really need it before we got here…”

“Anakin,” hissed Padme, but Vespera smiled.

“I’d be a fool if I believed _The Twilight_ was fully functional before you got here,” she said.

Anakin snorted and shrugged while Ahsoka giggled. “I have a feeling we’ll be seeing each other again.” Anakin eyed Vespera for a moment, a small smile slanting his mouth upward. Vespera sucked in a sharp breath. As much as it scared her, she couldn’t help but hope so.

“It was good to meet you,” said Ahsoka, bowing her head as Anakin and Padme boarded the ship.

“You too,” said Vespera. “Keep Master Skywalker out of trouble.”

Ahsoka rolled her eyes. “I think that’s more of Master Kenobi’s job than mine.”

With a wave, Ahsoka boarded the ship. Vespera turned to Obi-Wan. She burned to ask him if he felt what she did in the cave, but Callan—who stood in the massive doorway of the hangar—had his eyes on her.

“May I ask you something?” Obi-Wan’s brow furrowed. Vespera’s stomach jolted, and her eyes flicked over Obi-Wan’s shoulder. His brow twitched, and Vespera swore she heard him, but his lips never moved: _She’s being watched._ Vespera swallowed the lump in her throat and dipped her head. Obi-Wan’s creased brow deepened. “Who is Dorian?”

“He…” Vespera’s stomach twisted. She twisted her wedding ring around her finger. How did she explain who Dorian was to her? How could she sum up their relationship, and who he was? “He was a very close friend of mine, but he’s dead.”

A deep indigo of horror and guilt curled off Obi-Wan in the Force like smoke. “ _Oh_. I’m sorry.”

“It’s in the past,” Vespera braved a smile. “Until next time, Master Kenobi.”

Obi-Wan scrunched his brow, looking as if he wanted to say more—Vespera felt his desire to ask another question—but he simply bowed to her. “Until next time, your majesty.”

Vespera let out a deep breath when _The Twilight_ flew away, her last connection to the Jedi aboard.

***

_“Oh, I have something for you!” Vespera smiled and scrambled out of bed, drawing a blanket around her naked body as she hurried to her vanity set. Opening the drawer, she withdrew a crystal pendant and rushed back to Dorian and slipped under the covers._

_“It’s beautiful,” Dorian murmured, thumbing the translucent crystal. It caught the light and glinted rainbow flecks on his face._

_“No matter what happens, I will always be with you. It’s like a secret engagement.”_

_Dorian pressed his lips together for a moment. “Vez, it shouldn’t have to be secret.”_

_Vespera turned her head away. A chunk of hair fell into her face. “You know why it must.”_

_“Don’t marry him.”_

_“I have to, Dorian.”_

_“You don’t love him.”_

_“It’s not about love. It’s about making the right choice for my people—”_

_“Is it the right choice? Do you even have a choice?”_

_“You know the answer.”_

_Dorian leaned back against the pillows and ran a hand through his dark hair. “You should at least get to marry who you love.”_

_“I’m afraid I don’t have that luxury.”_

Vespera’s eyes cracked open and she ran her thumb over the crystal pendant again. Dorian had been broken hearted when she married Callan, but her council insisted that Callan was a respected man on Azyrion, with a wealth of knowledge about the politics. Since the people didn’t know Vespera very well—and queens needed a husband—it seemed like the best option.

At first, Dorian had avoided her, strictly acting as her loyal bodyguard. But they were in love, and he was practically Vespera’s only friend. They were parents, too.

Vespera nearly jumped out of her skin when Callan entered. She slipped the pendant inside her pocket and faced him.

“What did that Jedi want from you?” Callan’s voice grated on Vespera’s ears.

“What?”

“Before he left, that Jedi spoke with you privately. What did he want?”

“He thanked me for my help.”

“That seemed like more than gratitude,” said Callan, approaching Vespera slowly.

“I’m not sure what you want me to say, Callan. That’s what the Jedi said.”

“Are you mocking me?”

Vespera widened her eyes as Callan stepped uncomfortably close to her. “What? No, of course not.”

Callan grabbed a fistful of Vespera’s hair and yanked her head back, forcing her to look him in the face. “You’ve spent the past few days undermining and mocking my authority.”

“Callan, please—” Vespera pushed against him, but he merely tightened his grip on her hair.

“You erased footage of the dinner, and I noticed that you and that Jedi were pretty friendly with one another. So, I’ll ask again: _What did he want_?”

“He just wanted to thank me and said that Azyrion always has a friend in the Jedi!”

Callan sneered. “Why didn’t you just say that before?”

“You don’t like the Jedi,” Vespera winced as Callan gripped her hair even tighter. “I didn’t want to upset you.”

Callan released Vespera’s hair, and she rubbed her scalp. He stroked her face with the back of his forefinger. It took every ounce of willpower in Vespera not to flinch.

“Such a delicate thing you are,” Callan purred. “A delicate and kind thing…”

Vespera blinked back tears. “I’m sorry for not telling you the whole truth.”

Callan smirked. “Of course you are. Now, why did you delete the footage?”

Vespera’s stomach flopped. “Senator Amidala requested that I do because she… She was scared that someone might overhear us discuss the case. We suspected someone on the inside had shot them down, and we didn’t want anyone to know we were on to them.”

Callan hummed. “Very well.”

“Is that all you wanted? You don’t usually visit me in my quarters.”

Callan stepped around Vespera; his hands clasped behind his back as he approached the balcony. “We need to produce an heir soon. I don’t make you share my bed every night, but our anniversary is soon. I expect you to be a wife and fulfill your duties then.”

“Of course,” Vespera bowed her head. Callan nodded and left her quarters. Vespera clutched her chest and let out a heavy breath once he was gone.

***

In the early morning hours, before the sun had come up, Vespera snuck out of her quarters and slipped through the corridors until she reached the grand, marble staircase that led toward the back of the palace. Tiptoeing down the cold steps, Vespera rushed past the pillars and into the gardens. She veered toward the edge of the main garden and arrived at another set of stairs, which scaled the cliffside upon which the palace and its grounds perched. The stairs were steep, and in the darkness of the early morning, Vespera took her time on her descent to the beach. She landed upon the sand and drew in the salty, wet air.

The morning hung in a grey between brilliant sunrise and the thick night. Vespera always liked this in-between time of day, where nothing was quite awake. The ocean brushed the sand in a steady whisper. Out of sight of the palace, yet still connected to it, this beach was the perfect place to meditate. The Force stirred in Vespera, restless and hungry—she had not exercised it enough—and yearned for her to connect with it. So, she sat cross-legged in the sand and closed her eyes.

Her breathing fell in rhythm with the waves. Her emotions tangled in a blur of colors within her, so she sat there, breathing and untangling them like the Jedi taught her, allowing the Force to wash through her like water. The heat of red-orange anger detached first—Callan always treated her poorly, and no matter how angry she got, she was used to letting it go—and she let it retreat with the push and pull of the ocean. Her fear required a bit more untangling—it was an ugly thing, yellow-green like vomit—and seemed to go on endlessly, as if she were pulling at a strand of yarn, at the end of which hung a garbled ball. But she kept pulling, allowing that puke-colored emotion to wash through her veins, and then she let it go, releasing it into the Force. And then there was that deep teal of despair. It was hauntingly beautiful, so rooted in her veins that no amount of meditation could truly wash it away. It throbbed in her, that ache, like the creaking of floorboards in an empty house. She let it rear its head, let it vibrate in her like the strings of an instrument, and then let the Force wash away as much as it could.

Vespera needed to rebuild her walls, brick by brick. She needed to hide her Force-sensitivity, just in case she lost control and revealed herself.

But she had not felt this _alive_ in years. A little longer couldn’t hurt, right?

Tentatively, Vespera reached out with the Force. There seemed to be some sort of tether, connected to her to something else in the galaxy. The Force tugged her toward it, so she reached out, following the line. As a Jedi, she had trusted the Force and let it guide her. As an ex-Jedi, the Force still wanted to guide her, to show her something, so she let it. She followed the tether, plunging deeper into her meditative state until she no longer felt her surroundings. She couldn’t hear the ocean or feel the sand underneath her fingertips. She couldn’t sense the crab inching its way along the shore, nor the brush of wildflowers against the cliffside. She was in a void, but it was not like the void of space, cold and sucking and lacking air. It felt more like floating on the surface of still, warm water. No noise. Just stillness.

Vespera kept following the line through the void until echoes of voices—too far away and distorted to make out what they were saying—fluttered around her ears. A pinhole of light seemed to glow at the end of the void, and Vespera followed the tether toward it. It grew larger until it blinded her. She blinked and squinted. Her vision edged in bright white, but the at the center were blurry images. Something tall and dark walked before Vespera. Her vision trembled—the effort of following the Force’s tether was taking a toll on her—but she focused harder. The beige silhouette of a man sitting before her seemed to grow clearer. The hum of his voice paused as the image came into focus.

Obi-Wan turned his head toward her, his brow puckering.

Vespera gasped and withdrew immediately. She was sucked through the void and returned to her body with a slam. Digging her fingers into the sand, Vespera heaved for breath. What kind of vision was that? It seemed like it had been the present moment—and it also seemed that Obi-Wan had _seen_ her—but that was impossible, right? Why would the Force show her Obi-Wan, anyway? Ever since that moment in the cave…

There was only one person who could possibly answer her questions. Her uncle, Abner Stellavis, former Jedi Knight. The last connection she had to the Jedi Order. It was rare for family members to be Jedi, but her uncle had been a Knight when Vespera was brought to the Temple as a child. He left when she did, to watch over her and help guide her. He lived on Tatum, one of Azyrion’s other moons. It seemed a visit to Tatum was essential now.

“My lady?” Neve stood at the foot of the stairs behind Vespera. The sun had risen, casting a soft orange glow on the water and upon Neve’s face. 

“Oh, Neve. You scared me.”

“My apologies,” said Neve. “I was nervous when I didn’t find you in your quarters, and when I asked King Callan, he told me you hadn’t spent the night in his, so he sent me to find you.”

“I wanted to watch the sunrise,” Vespera lied, standing. She brushed sand off her nightgown and robe. “I apologize for causing any grief.” 

“Did you and the Jedi ever find out who was behind all of this?” Neve queried, climbing the steps once Vespera joined her.

“No,” Vespera sighed, “but I have a suspicion as to who might be.”

“Who?”

“Lady Lorelei. I need to pay a visit to Raria.”

***

The prison was well-maintained, and Lady Lorelei’s cell even more so. Vespera stood before the detention cell. A containment field and metal bars locked Lorelei inside. The woman herself lounged on a bench attached to the wall.

“Ah, Queen Vespera,” Lorelei purred. She kicked her legs into the air like a dancer’s and stood with the grace of a feline. Tall and slender, Lorelei inherited the midnight looks of the family. She narrowed her dark eyes at Vespera. “It’s been a long time, _cousin_.”

“Indeed,” Vespera agreed.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” But Lorelei smirked, and Vespera curled her fingers into her palms.

“Want to tell me why I’ve run into some fanatics of yours lately?”

Lorelei snorted. “I cannot help, nor can I control, what my loyal subjects do.”

Vespera crossed her arms. “Then why did they say _you_ planned for this?”

Lorelei’s smile froze, but she smoothed it over with a shrug. “Maybe they knew you’d come sniffing around and want to cover their tracks.”

“This isn’t a game, Lorelei,” hissed Vespera. “Your fanatics shot down a Republic ship and might be conspiring with the Separatists. This will drag Azyrion into war! You must care enough for your people to not want that, right?”

Lorelei inched closer to the bars. “You sound scared, Vezzy.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“So touchy,” Lorelei rolled her eyes. “Your sister was like that. So _sensitive_.”

Vespera’s breath hitched. That familiar tug—the desire to know more about her sister Elysia—jolted in Vespera’s stomach. But she refrained from voicing her questions. It wasn’t like Lorelei would answer them, anyway.

“Why are you really here?” Lorelei narrowed her eyes.

“I came to make sure you’re enjoying your cell.”

Lorelei smiled. “You look tired. That crown too heavy for you?”

Lifting her chin defiantly, Vespera said, “Never.”

“It will be,” Lorelei whispered. “And one day, this will be _your_ cell, not mine.”

“Excuse me for not taking you seriously while you’re behind bars,” Vespera snapped. But in truth, her heart quivered. Lorelei’s threat dug itself under Vespera’s skin more than she cared to admit.

“Things are changing all the time, Vezzy,” Lorelei called as Vespera turned away from the cell. “That crown may not be too heavy now, but it will be.”

***

The rolling, green hills of Tatum proved far friendlier than the prison on Raria. Vespera landed her ship at the port, then took her speeder and cruised along the countryside. She veered off toward a path, where tall trees lined either side. She sped until she arrived at a cottage nestled atop a hill. Wildflowers swayed in the warm breeze, and behind the house sat a garden. Vespera parked her speeder and dismounted.

Bounding out of the front door came a little girl, dark hair flowing behind her. “Momma!”

Vespera grinned and swooped to pick up her daughter. “Kenna!”

Smoothing back her Kenna’s hair, Vespera placed a kiss on her daughter’s forehead. Vespera’s heart swelled with warmth as Kenna wreathed her arms around Vespera’s neck.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” said Uncle Abner, leaning against the doorway of the cottage. He smiled kindly as Vespera strode toward him, Kenna still clinging to her. Abner kissed Vespera’s cheek and beckoned for her to enter.

“It was urgent,” Vespera sat on an armchair, holding Kenna on her lap.

“Monarchy business or the Force?” Abner queried.

“Both,” Vespera admitted. Abner raised his eyebrows at Kenna and jerked his head to the side. Vespera’s heart sank, but agreed. She pulled back to look at Kenna. “Angel, do you mind giving your uncle and I some grown-up time?”

Kenna jutted out her bottom lip. “But you just got here.”

“I know, sweetheart,” Vespera’s heart clenched. “I promise that when we’re done, I’ll spend the whole afternoon with you. How does that sound?”

Kenna thought for a moment. Then, she slid off Vespera’s lap. “Okay.”

Vespera waited for Kenna’s footsteps to patter down the hall, up the stairs, and into her room before speaking. “Lorelei’s followers are rising.”

Abner leaned forward and rubbed his bearded chin. “There have always been the spare fanatics here and there. What’s so urgent about this time?”

“They shot down a Republic ship,” Vespera replied.

Abner’s eyes stretched. “That _is_ a problem.”

“And it seems like there are more than just small groups,” Vespera added. “They had military-grade tech—”

“Was it Rarian tech?”

“Obi-Wan said it looked like Separatist,” Vespera pinched her brow.

“Obi-Wan?” Abner drew back, his eyes wide. “That Kenobi boy? Well, I suppose he isn’t a boy anymore.”

Vespera smiled softly. “He’s a Jedi _Master_ now.”

Abner chuckled and shook his head. “I always knew that he’d go on to achieve great things. What the blazes was he doing on Azyrion?”

“He was on the ship that got shot down. He was with two other Jedi and Senator Amidala. She was the real target. Someone from our system tried to get her killed _twice_.”

“What makes you think Lorelei’s followers are behind this, and conspiring with the Separatists?”

Vespera inhaled and told her uncle everything about the investigation, from Valerius, to the mines, to visiting Lorelei herself. Abner clasped his hands together and balanced his elbows on his knees.

“That is disconcerting,” he muttered. He leaned back. “So, why’d you come here for help? You seem like you’ve got a good handle on it.”

“I don’t think so,” Vespera lowered her head. “My council is watching me at every turn. I’m sure Valerius will be released any day now.”

“You think some of them are in on it.”

“I’d bet my life on it,” Vespera agreed gravely.

“Don’t say that,” scolded Abner. “There are many on your council who’d collect on that.”

“Which brings me to my next point,” Vespera leaned forward. “I can’t investigate this without the council getting involved, and if Lorelei is still planning some sort of uprising, there’s not much I can do to stop her, especially with some of my council possibly backing her claim to the throne.”

“Why would they back her claim, though? They’d be trading in one strong woman for another.”

Vespera puckered her brow. “Maybe it’s not her claim to the throne, but her power. She might have the strength to overthrow me or kill me, but they could easily lay all the blame on her.”

“They’d make a martyr out of you and give full control to Callan,” said Abner, nodding. “So, what’s your plan?”

Vespera rubbed her sweaty palms together. “We’re secure here, right?”

“No one knows we’re here, and no one’s listening.”

Vespera blew out a breath. “I want to dissolve the monarchy.”

Abner leaned forward. “Vez, you’re talking about _treason_ —”

“It’s the only way to get rid of the council. Dissolve the monarchy—”

“Why not dissolve the council?”

“How?” Vespera snapped. “They block me at every turn. Every bill I write, every time I have to speak on behalf of the people, no matter what I do, they oversee it. I’m just a pawn in their game, and I am sick of it. I let my naivety cloud my judgment before. That was my mistake.”

“Our mistake,” Abner mumbled. “I thought you marrying Callan would’ve been a good thing…”

“Neither of us should’ve been in this mess,” Vespera muttered. “We were supposed to be Jedi.”

“Yeah, and we’d be soldiers in the Clone War now, if we’d stayed,” said Abner. He dragged a hand over his face. “I’m assuming you don’t mean you’re going to dissolve the monarchy right off the bat?”

Vespera laughed. “I wouldn’t be able to if I tried. There are others—social leaders—who support this idea. People who supported me in the past, and still do.”

“I’ll contact them, but you’ve gotta tell me what you want them to do.”

“We’ll start with education. The people need to be better educated, but quietly. The council still controls a lot of what our people learn.”

“Alright. I’ll contact our friends. But this isn’t exactly a quick solution to your problem.”

“I know,” Vespera sighed. Then, she smiled. “But I think I have some new friends in the Republic who could help.”

Abner eyed Vespera for a long time. Then he lifted his brows. “And your problems with the Force?”

Vespera shifted. “Something _happened_ while I was in the tunnel with Obi-Wan. I don’t know if he felt it too, though.”

“What happened?”

“I… I slipped and fell—almost to my death—and Obi-Wan caught me. But when he grabbed my hand, it was like… A door opened, or a dam broke, and the Force rushed through me like a surge of electricity. I could feel his emotions like they were my own. I know with the Force I can sense what others are feeling, but it’s subdued. I could almost hear his thoughts without trying. And then, this morning, I was meditating, and I felt this pull, like the Force wanted to show me something. I followed it and I had this… I don’t really know what it was, exactly… I suppose it was a vision? It was like I was there with Obi-Wan, witnessing his present, and he looked toward me as if he _saw_ me. And there’s this ever-present feeling in the back of my mind of Obi-Wan’s presence. I don’t know what it means. I haven’t experienced anything like this before. I think the closest I’ve gotten to something like this is when I was Master Plo’s Padawan, and we had a bond as Master and apprentice.”

Abner’s brow creased and he leaned forward. “And you’re not sure if he felt it, too?”

“I never got a chance to ask.”

“It’s possible that in the moment of peril, both of you let your guards down, and in a way, he opened you back up to the Force. You’re out of practice. I suppose it’s like when a limb falls asleep, and then it sort of wakes up…” Abner rubbed his chin, staring at the floor, deep in thought.

Vespera’s stomach twisted. “And if Obi-Wan felt it, too?”

Abner looked up sharply. “Well, I’m not really sure. All I do know is that for some reason, the Force is connecting you to him, but we don’t know if it’s mutual or not. I think the best way to find out is to keep meditating on it. If you ever see Obi-Wan again, ask him about it.”

Vespera snorted softly to herself. “Oh yes, _that_ won’t be an awkward conversation at all.”

Abner grunted as he stood. “An awkward but _necessary_ conversation.”

***

“Uncle Abner makes me help him with the garden every morning,” said Kenna, pointing at the different patches of the garden reserved for different things. The fruit in the far-left corner nearly looked ripe.

“Well, you’re doing an excellent job,” said Vespera, smiling down at Kenna, who clasped Vespera’s hand as she led her through the garden and toward the back gate. They slipped out the gate and wandered into the field of tall grass and wildflowers. “What else has your uncle been teaching you?”

“Well, during the day, he teaches me school stuff. But after school, he makes sit out here and relax. He says I’m supposed to listen to nature.”

“Nature can teach you a lot,” Vespera complied.

“Did you know you’re a queen?”

“I did,” Vespera grinned.

“Does that make me a princess?”

“A secret princess,” Vespera reminded Kenna, placing a finger over her lips.

“Why does it have to be a secret?”

Vespera sat down in the grass. “There are lots of people who don’t like me as the queen, so it’s not safe for you.”

“That’s why I can’t live with you,” said Kenna, looking down. “I bet it’s fun to live in a castle.”

Vespera’s heart twisted sharply. What kind of life was this for her daughter? Away from her mother, alone in a cottage in the middle of nowhere… At least Abner took her to the local park to play with other children every week, but it still hurt Vespera to think that she put her child in this horrible situation. It was Vespera’s recklessness, rebelliousness, and naivety that put Kenna here.

“It’s alright,” said Vespera. “It’d be more fun if I had you there.”

Kenna smiled, but the soft blue sorrow feathering around her in the Force constricted Vespera’s lungs. She brushed a lock of Kenna’s hair behind her ear.

“Want know where your Uncle Abner and I used to live?”

Kenna wrinkled her brow. “You didn’t always live here?”

Vespera shook her head. “We lived at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant.”

“Where’s that?”

“It’s a planet that’s one, big, gigantic city,” Vespera extended her arms for emphasis. Kenna lifted a brow.

“Are there any trees?”

“Not really.”

“Flowers?”

“Nope. Just big, tall, buildings.”

“That sounds ugly.”

Vespera laughed. “It’s pretty in its own way. Did Abner ever tell you he was a Jedi, or what that means?”

“A little,” said Kenna, picking at a blade of grass. “He said he can use the Force, and that’s why I can sometimes move things without touching them.”

“That’s right,” said Vespera.

“So why don’t I live with the Jedi?”

“No Jedi ever came to get you,” Vespera replied. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “And Azyrion doesn’t like the Jedi very much. I couldn’t take you to them.”

Kenna lowered her gaze. “Oh. Well, maybe they’re just late coming to get me.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Vespera offered, her heart shriveling even further in her chest. Suddenly, she no longer wanted to talk about the Jedi. “Want me to teach you how to make a flower crown?”

Kenna brightened. “Yeah!”

***

_“If the council ever finds out, they’ll kill her,” Vespera hugged the newborn baby Kenna to her chest. “I will not let that happen.”_

_Sweat still clung to her forehead. It had not been an easy birth, but holding Kenna in her arms for the first time was worth it. Dorian sat beside her, his arm around Vespera’s waist. He planted a kiss to Vespera’s temple._

_“We’ll think of something.”_

_“You’re supposed to marry Callan,” hissed Abner. He raked his hands through his chin-length hair._

_“I’m not going to marry him, not with war on the horizon!”_

_“That might be the best way to stop the war,” Abner sighed._

_“I want to exhaust every other option first,” Vespera replied firmly. She gazed down at Kenna. Monolid eyes and already sporting a dark head of hair, the baby resembled Dorian far more than Vespera. She was beautiful._

_“I could take her to the Jedi,” said Abner._

_“We don’t know if she’s got the Force,” snapped Dorian._

_Vespera’s eyes pricked with tears. “She does. I feel it.”_

_“We can’t separate Kenna from her mother so early.” Dorian sounded desperate._

_Abner buried his face in his hands. “You can’t keep her here, either. It’s not safe and you know it.”_

_“I don’t want to send her to the Jedi, either!” Dorian cried._

_“Dorian,” Vespera scolded as Kenna shifted in her arms._

_Dorian looked at Vespera with tears in his eyes. “Vez, we will never see our daughter again if Abner takes her to the Jedi.”_

_Vespera’s eyes welled with tears. “But what other choice do we have?”_

_“Don’t make a decision tonight,” said Abner, standing. “But don’t get too attached to her, either. You know you can’t keep her.”_

_Abner left the room, and Vespera choked out a sob. Dorian placed his hands on her shoulders._

_“We’ll figure something out. We’ll be a family, somehow…”_

***

Nausea curled in Vespera’s stomach as she exited her ship and entered the palace, already feeling the emptiness in her chest that Kenna usually occupied. They’d sent Kenna to Tatum to live with Abner, visiting every week in secret, away from the war. They had planned to send her off to the Jedi once it was clear that Kenna truly was Force-sensitive. Three years, Vespera had begged. _Just give me three years_. But then Dorian died, and Vespera couldn’t bear to lose Kenna, too.

So, she damned Kenna to a life of seclusion.

What a horribly wretched and selfish thing to do, Abner had scolded. And Vespera had never been able to bring herself to disagree with him.

“Vespera,” Callan greeted. “Where in the blazes have you been?”

“I went to check and make sure things were secure on Raria,” Vespera replied easily.

Callan looped his arm through Vespera’s and steered her down a corridor. “No time to change. We have a guest.”

Vespera stopped in her tracks, eyes widening at the tall figure at the end of the hall. He turned, smiled, and then bowed to her. “Your majesty. It is an honor to finally meet you.”

 _Count Dooku_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slow update! I’m trying to stay updated on all the fics I’m writing, and with this whole quarantine thing, I’ve had to adjust to teaching online, but hopefully I’ll be updating regularly soon! Thank you all for understanding and for showing so much support. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and please leave a comment letting me know what you thought!


	6. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: domestic abuse again—it’s very quick, but again, it’s there.

It was early in the morning, though Obi-Wan couldn’t tell by looking out the viewport, as the darkness of space plunged them into a perpetual night. He barely slept, unable to shake the feeling that Vespera’s somehow lingered around him. _Something_ happened in the cave, though he was unsure as to exactly what it was. That electric shock that surged through his body and allowed him to feel Vespera’s emotions on top of his own, and the way he felt her open up to the Force, as if she were finally waking up…

“Are you even listening to me?” Anakin stopped mid-pace to scowl down at Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan sighed. “I agree that it was odd, but there isn’t much we can do about the situation.”

“Someone threatened Padme—Senator Amidala’s—life, and you think that they were involved with the Separatists, so that should give the Republic jurisdiction—”

“Neutral systems are complicated,” Obi-Wan shrugged. A flicker in the corner of his eye turned his head toward the corner of the room. His blood froze and his breath hitched.

It was just a wink and then she vanished, but Obi-Wan _swore_ that Vespera stood there for a moment. Maybe he needed more sleep.

***

_The high windows of the Jedi Temple had yet to filter in warm sunlight as Obi-Wan wandered through the early hours of the morning. Yet, he found himself outside in the courtyard before many were even awake. Lately, his dreams were filled with powerful premonitions—no real visions like Qui-Gon experienced, but powerful feelings—of something horrendous on the horizon. He awoke with cold decay on his tongue, the echo of lightsaber sizzling in his ears. If only the Force would show him what the premonitions meant rather than tease him with these feelings…_

_Obi-Wan stopped in his tracks. He had not expected to find anyone out here, especially so early in the morning. But here was Vespera, legs crossed and her back to him, meditating before the sun kissed the sky._

_He stood still for several seconds. Should he stay, or go? He didn’t want to disturb her, but he had come here for the same reason._

_“Are you going to sit down, or are you going to stand there like a weirdo?” Vespera’s voice flowered with amusement._

_Obi-Wan cringed at himself, but sat beside her. “I didn’t expect to find anyone out here.”_

_“I like to meditate before the world wakes up,” said Vespera, her eyes still closed. “Coruscant can be really loud, even at the Temple.”_

_“I understand,” Obi-Wan bowed his head. His Padawan braid hung down to his waist when he did so. He hoped he got to cut it soon. “How was your first mission?”_

_Vespera had been a Knight for a few weeks now, and had already been on her first solo mission. “It went well. Not much action, but Master Plo would say that’s a good problem to have. But I don’t think you’re here to talk about that. What brings you here so early?”_

_Obi-Wan wanted to deflect the question and continue discussing Vespera’s solo mission, but she had a way of seeing right through him sometimes in a way that was uncanny. He cleared his throat and shifted beside her. “I couldn’t sleep.”_

_“Bad dream?”_

_“Something like that.”_

_“You don’t have to talk about it, but if you want, I’m here.” Vespera nudged Obi-Wan with her shoulder. She kept her eyes closed, but the smile quirking at the corners of her mouth brought a small smile to Obi-Wan’s lips, too. Suddenly, he itched to tell her everything: his premonitions of death, his relationship with Satine, his feelings for Siri, his fears that maybe he would never become a Knight because he almost didn’t become a Padawan—_

_Instead he said: “Thank you, Vez.”_

***

Obi-Wan’s return to the Jedi Temple brought him less peace than he hoped. Instead, he felt Vespera’s presence linger around him like a shadow or a ghost—flickering like a candle—but ever-present.

None of it made sense.

He could feel Anakin’s presence with ease—as Masters and apprentices usually developed a bond that transcended distance—and he could even sense Ahsoka—though with some more difficulty and not as intimately as Anakin could sense her—so why could Obi-Wan sense and feel Vespera so closely?

Climbing the steps to the Jedi Archives, Obi-Wan entered the massive room and found Madame Jocasta assisting a young Padawan with their studies. Obi-Wan waited patiently, though his stomach twisted into a knot. Jocasta finally noticed him and smiled as she approached.

“Ah, Master Kenobi, this is a pleasant surprise. What can I help you with?”

“Hello,” Obi-Wan returned Jocasta’s amiable greeting. “I’d like to do some research on…” On what? Where did he even start with this whole situation? “Force connections.”

Jocasta’s brow furrowed. “Do you mean Force bonds?”

“Er, yes,” Obi-Wan’s throat swelled. He swallowed. “As you can tell, my knowledge on them is lacking, and I’d like to expand my studies.”

“The marks of a wise Jedi Master,” praised Jocasta. “This way.”

Leading Obi-Wan past the rotunda and down an aisle of books and holocrons of information, Jocasta paused before a section and gestured to which ones Obi-Wan should focus on. “Here is what we have on Force bonds. Happy reading, Master Kenobi.”

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan called after her. He stared up at the wealth of information. He picked a few holobooks on Force bonds and found a desk secluded in a corner of the Archives to flip through them.

**_Some Force-sensitives have a gift for creating strong Force bonds._ **

**_Common to occur between_ ** **_Jedi Masters_ ** **_and their apprentices, a Force bond, also known as Force chain or Jedi kinship, is a link through which two_ ** **_Force-sensitives_ ** **_can influence each other. It allows the communication of feelings, thoughts and images across distances and grants greater coordination in battle. Through such connections_ ** **_the Force_ ** **_easily flows, sometimes allowing one’s will to bolster the strengths of the other, or possibly to draw upon their strengths._ **

****

**_Force bonding_ ** **_refers to the innate Force ability to form connections in the Force. The degree to which that is possible varies depending on the Force-sensitivity of the people involved, meaning that the stronger they are in the Force, the stronger the connection will be. While most life has a marginal ability to form connections, some might possess a special predisposition to it._ **

****

Obi-Wan set the book aside—he already knew much of what that one said, and had already guessed that perhaps Vespera had a special predisposition to form Force bonds—and picked up another, one that focused on techniques.

**_Force bonds sometimes arise or are a result of Jedi battle meditation._ **

No, that was no use. Obi-Wan flipped to a different section of the book.

**_Force bonds can allow connections to communicate knowledge. There are legends of Force-sensitives forming bonds to rip language from the minds of others in order to communicate._ **

Well, that just sounded downright violent.

**_Force bonds can allow for telepathy, allowing a master to teach an apprentice across great distances…_ **

**_Force bonds, when shared between two strong Force-sensitives, can allow both parties to feel the pain of each other…_ **

**_The bond between a Master and a Padawan typically occurs slowly over time, requiring that they grow together and understand one another through training. Relatives can possess more powerful bonds. Moments of death, or near-death, can cause powerful bonds, too…_ **

Obi-Wan rubbed his face. So, there seemed to exist a few possible explanations. If what was happening was in fact a Force bond. But if it wasn’t that, what could it be?

***

“Master Plo,” Obi-Wan caught up to Plo Koon, who slowed his pace to allow Obi-Wan to fall in step with him.

“Master Kenobi,” Plo Koon greeted.

“Did you hear about my excursion to Azyrion?”

Plo Koon’s face was hard to read, but it seemed to shadow with a frown. “I did.”

Obi-Wan’s chest tightened. Plo Koon’s voice carried a heaviness, one that echoed a decade-old pain. “Then you know I ran into your former Padawan.”

Plo Koon’s steps slowed to a stop. “The queen of Azyrion would not like to be discussed about in such a manner. I’m sure you’re aware of the dangers posed upon her.”

“I am,” Obi-Wan replied. “I had a question about Vespera.”

Plo Koon bowed his head. “I see.”

“Was she… talented in forming Force bonds as a Padawan?”

“That is a very specific question.”

Obi-Wan’s stomach churned. “Something _happened_ while I was on Azyrion.”

“Oh?”

Obi-Wan’s skin felt hot. For some reason, he felt as if _he_ had done something wrong, but this was out of his control. He hadn’t meant to get connected to Vespera. “Ever since I left, I’ve… I’ve felt Vespera’s presence. I could easily sense her, and there was a moment on the ship where I thought I had a vision of her, but it was so fast that I thought I imagined it.”

Plo Koon folded his arms. “Vespera and I did experience a particularly strong Force bond, but we were a Master and Padawan. That is not unusual.”

“Of course,” Obi-Wan’s shoulders slumped.

“What happened that might have triggered this?”

Obi-Wan’s mind raced. _That moment in the cave_. “I caught her when she fell and saved her life. I know Force bonds sometimes are created in moments of peril, but that didn’t seem too drastic…”

Plo Koon’s shoulders raised as he drew in a breath. “When Vespera was a Padawan, she did exhibit a strong ability to connect with others. She was a natural leader. If the Force has connected the two of you, then the _Force_ is the best way to find your answers.”

“Yes, of course,” said Obi-Wan, though his heart dropped. The Force seldom gave solid answers.

Plo Koon’s brow lowered. “How was she?”

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows. The first response that popped in his mind was _lonely_. “She hadn’t forgotten her training.”

Plo Koon hummed. “That was never my worry.”

Obi-Wan bowed his head. “I believe she misses you and the Jedi.”

“If one is truly a Jedi, then I believe that even if they leave the Order, being a Jedi never leaves them,” Plo said gravely. “The choice to leave was hers, though in many ways, it was not. I hope you find the answers you seek, Kenobi.” Plo patted Obi-Wan’s shoulder and continued down the corridor.

Obi-Wan returned to his quarters and sat cross-legged on the floor. Perhaps Master Plo was right: The best way to find answers was to seek them through the Force. He closed his eyes and focused his breathing, entering into a meditative state. He reached out, reaching past the Temple and Coruscant, and entered into the void of meditation. He floated until the darkness deepened, and ahead gleamed a pinprick of light. Obi-Wan drifted toward it, following the tug in his chest that urged him toward it. He followed it as if on a tether—

The acidic bite of fear rose in Obi-Wan’s stomach and clenched his heart. He squinted, standing in a room full of people, but his eyes couldn’t adjust. The figures remained in a blur, and their voices sounded muffled, as if they were underwater. Where was he? Who were these people?

He edged the room, trying to see better, but everything remained blurred and muffled. Blast it, why couldn’t he just see and hear the vision? What good was a vision if he couldn’t even acknowledge it?

Obi-Wan froze, sensing a darkly familiar presence. One of the blurred figures grew taller, as if standing from a seat. Obi-Wan’s heart slammed in his chest as he narrowed his eyes at the figure. The blurred edges sharpened and Obi-Wan widened his eyes. _Count Dooku_. 

Gasping, Obi-Wan withdrew from his meditative state. Why was Count Dooku shown instead of Vespera? Was the connection to Vespera the Force’s will, a product of Vespera’s power, or something darker?

***

The Force haunted Obi-Wan’s dreams with flashes of hazel-green eyes, a desert, twin suns, and parched lips. The feelings were dark, heavy, a deep blue that it was almost black, with glimpses of warmth. And then the dreams shifted to beaches, hazel-green eyes, a graceful smile that warmed his heart, and the tinkling laughter of a child…

When Obi-Wan awoke, it was before dawn. His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. The last time he had dreams like that—premonitions—was within weeks of Qui-Gon’s death. But what could be happening to give him these new premonitions, and what did they mean?

Obi-Wan kicked off the covers and left his quarters to wander into the courtyard. Ever since he meditated with Vespera here over ten years ago, he found it to be his favorite spot. She’d been right, too: Meditating before the world woke up allowed for a quieter mind. But what if Obi-Wan’s mind was too noisy to connect with the Force?

Sitting cross-legged, Obi-Wan drew in a deep breath. He needed to clear his mind of his questions and focus on the Force. With each breath, the world around him faded into the void. Something tied him to another point in the galaxy, so he followed the tether. His gut told him it was still Vespera. For some reason, the Force tethered him to her. He followed it through the warm void, toward the pinprick of light in the darkness.

This time, when Obi-Wan exited void, he entered a blurred space, but Vespera was clear. She sat in a chair, wearing an elegant nightgown. A pendant gleamed in her palm. She ran her thumb over it, and then stiffened. Turning, she looked directly at Obi-Wan. Her lips parted, but a blurred figure stomped toward her.

Vespera jumped and hid the pendant behind her as she stood. “Callan!”

“How long are you going to avoid this, Vespera?” Callan demanded.

Obi-Wan circled the space—all he could really see was Vespera, even Callan was a blur—until he no longer stood behind Vespera, but before her. Her eyes flicked over Callan’s shoulder at Obi-Wan, but then she returned her attention to her husband. “The people deserve a choice. You want to drag them into this war, breaking treaties that have been in place for a hundred years. Do I need to remind you that we are still loyal to the Republic?”

“A Republic that completely disregards our traditions, a Republic that ignores our needs—” Callan spat.

“What needs? Azyrion is not in need of any help from the Republic’s resources—”

“We are when Separatists and Jedi land here without any real grounds. We’re being dragged in this war because we are not truly neutral or protected. You’re a fool if you can’t recognize that.”

“Azyrion is still _part_ of the Republic, but neutral in this _conflict_. The Jedi had a reason for being here, but it was some of _your_ friends who threaten Azyrion’s neutrality by inviting Dooku here!” Vespera yelled.

Callan smacked Vespera across the face. Obi-Wan’s blood froze and his eyes widened. Callan towered over Vespera. “Do not talk back to me, woman.”

Vespera backed away, cradling her face. Obi-Wan crinkled his nose as Callan neared Vespera, who flashed a glance at Obi-Wan, who rushed back to his body and away from Vespera.

Trembling, Obi-Wan struggled to control his breathing. Could he trust what he saw? Was that something about to happen, or had it already occurred? Was it a vision? Was it the present? Had Dooku really been invited to Azyrion, and was Callan really hurting Vespera? Just what in the universe was she dealing with?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! Short chapter, but I like to switch POVs every chapter, so we needed to see how Obi-Wan was dealing with all this… Anyway, I’ve been working on my rough outline for this story and I’m really excited for y’all to see everything! (Also, I’ve been reading a lot of Star Wars lore on the Force and also books about it to make sure I’m doing a decent portrayal, lol.)
> 
> Thank you all so much for your continued support! There’s more to come soon.
> 
> Preview of next chapter: Vespera goes to Coruscant with a plan…
> 
> Please leave some feedback! Thank you all so much, and stay safe!


	7. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’re about to start interweaving with some Clone Wars episodes!

“Those protestors are getting worse every day,” growled Councilman Gan. “We’re going to have an uprising if we’re not careful.”

“Ever since those damned Jedi crashed here, the people have become mad,” added Cathal, his eyes cutting toward Vespera. “Or perhaps our queen is.”

Vespera lifted her chin. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” spat Cathal. “You let those Jedi remain here too long.”

“That was over a month ago,” Vespera dismissed, “and our people were already trying to make their voices heard before the Jedi crashed here. I fail to see how doing our _duty_ to help the Republic makes me mad.”

“Silence,” snapped Callan as Cathal opened his mouth to retort, “I want to know our next step. People are rising up in support of the Separatists, while others want more voting rights. How do we keep this contained?”

“We give the people what they want,” said Jiang.

“We can’t do that,” sneered Gan, “the people are idiots. They don’t know—”

“They’re not idiots, we have one of the best education systems—”

“If we give the people what they want, then we’ll soon be one of _them_.” 

“Gentlemen,” Vespera called. They ignored her. With a huff, Vespera pressed her knuckles into the table and stood. Her council continued to bicker, so she simply glared at them until they noticed her. “Need I remind you that we have a treaty with the Republic? To even entertain what a small group of radical Separatists wants is a breach of said treaty. However, we can grant the people more voting rights—”

“Just so that they can vote to break this treaty?” demanded Cathal.

“The people don’t know what’s best for them,” said Torin.

“We can’t even agree on what the best move is,” said Soren, slapping a hand on the table. “Count Dooku offered us a great deal—”

“That we mustn’t even _consider_ ,” snapped Vespera.

Deion sighed. “Your majesty, I agree with you, but the people are rising—”

“Because the Republic has breached our treaty!” cried Cathal.

“Advisor Cathal, need I remind you that they were here requesting permission, and it was your son who breached the treaty?” Vespera said coldly.

If he could foam at the mouth, Cathal probably would.

“Might I suggest,” said Callan, seated at the head of the table to Vespera’s right, “that we appease the people in some small manner? They do not know of Valerius’s crime. All they know is that a Republic ship appeared and was shot down by someone on Azyrion. To the people, the Republic does appear to be the enemy.”

Vespera pursed her lips and sank into her chair. She clenched her fists under the table. As much as she hated to admit it, Callan was right. The people had no idea what happened a month ago. To them, it seemed that the Republic breached the treaty, and Azyrion shot them down for it. To the innocent civilians of Azyrion, the Republic cared very little about Azyrion’s boundaries, and the Separatists seemed like diplomatic negotiators. Truth be told, Vespera knew very little about the Separatists and their goals—since Azyrion had treaties with the Republic, there seemed to be no need to heed the Separatists any attention—and if she knew very little, she doubted the civilians of Azyrion knew much more. 

“I suggest we do as the queen advises,” said Jiang, smirking. “We educate the people more on this matter.”

“Educate them how, exactly?” Vespera demanded.

“Oh, you needn’t worry your pretty little head about it. I’ll pick out educators to make sure the people understand our stance on the Republic,” said Jiang.

Vespera narrowed her eyes. “I have a right to know. I may be a woman, but let’s not forget who in this room has Stellavis blood running through their veins.”

“And it was a _Stellavis_ who created this council to help guide you,” Callan dismissed. “Jiang shall handle the education matter from here. This meeting is adjourned.”

Vespera felt winded as the council stood from the table and left the room. Callan stood and fiddled with his wedding band.

“Why do you insist on resisting our every decision? We know what’s best for Azyrion and this system.”

Vespera clenched her jaw. Tears blurred her vision, but she blinked them back. “And you think I don’t?”

“Vespera, your own father believed you couldn’t handle this on your own. It’s time for you to face the facts. Azyrion isn’t a monarchy; it’s an oligarchy, because your father believed you couldn’t rule. This is why we need to have a child.”

Vespera smoothed over a sneer as she lifted her chin at her husband. “Don’t act like your desire for an heir is solely to help me reclaim my power as queen.”

“I won’t ever pretend _that_ , my dear,” said Callan, his own lip curling. “But the only way for us to not have to be controlled by this council is if you produce an heir.”

Vespera looked at her hands, holding back tears. _I have an heir._ “And what kind of education will this council be promoting? No doubt in favor of the Separatists. You invited Count Dooku here, and now our council is divided, and we are on the brink of falling into a war.”

“I did not invite Dooku here,” snapped Callan. “Cathal did.”

“It seems treachery is a blood-related thing.”

Callan snorted. “Cathal is stirring the people. He’s got allies helping promote Separatist propaganda.”

“Then why don’t we stop him?” Vespera said, standing.

“Because I’m waiting to see how many traitors are here in our very court. The best way we can get rid of our council is by conceiving an heir.”

Vespera pursed her lips for a moment. “Unless you don’t truly want to get rid of this council. You’re hiding something, Callan. I know it.”

Callan inched closer; his lip curled like a wild animal’s. “Careful, Vespera. You wouldn’t want to accuse the king and head of your council of treachery. It might cost you your life.”

He swept out of the room, and Vespera let out a stuttering breath. She took a moment to collect herself, and then stepped away from the table.

A sharp, burning pain jolted through her body. Vespera cried out and dropped to her knees, and her hands shook as she steadied herself. It felt as if she’d been electrocuted. But just as quickly as it seared through her, it vanished. 

***

Sneaking away to Coruscant did not prove difficult. While Callan and the council worked to “educate” Azyrion’s people, Vespera slipped into her cruiser and jumped to hyperspace with a message for her husband that she intended to meet with Duchess Satine Kryze on behalf of Azyrion’s treaty with Mandalore. Instead, she ventured to Coruscant and trekked to Senator Amidala’s office as soon as she landed. 

“Queen Vespera,” greeted Senator Amidala, smiling a little nervously. “It’s good to see you. I have to say that when I got your transmission that you wanted to meet in person, I was a little shocked.”

“I didn’t feel comfortable talking about this matter over a transmission that could be traced or tapped into,” admitted Vespera, stopping before the crescent-shaped desk. The cityscape in the background knotted Vespera’s stomach. She had not laid eyes on this view in ten years. In the evening, the skyline glowed in brilliant pinks while the city lights cast blues and violets into the atmosphere. Now, a light blue painted the sky while pearlescent clouds dotted it. A stream of cruisers striped the background behind Senator Amidala’s ornately decorated head.

“What did you want to discuss?” Amidala moved aside datapads to clear her desk—or at least tidy it—and sat down, gesturing for Vespera to follow suit.

Vespera drew in a shaky breath as she sat across from Amidala. “Azyrion received a visit from Count Dooku recently.”

Amidala’s eyebrows curved upward and her mouth fell open. “Dooku? What was he doing there? Is Azyrion—”

“No, not yet,” Vespera said quickly. “But I suspect that there are those on my council who wish Azyrion would join the Separatists, and are conspiring to accomplish this goal.”

Amidala drew back. “If what you say is true, then the Republic will have to intervene. I thought you didn’t want that?”

“I don’t.”

“Then why come to me?”

“I know about how the Trade Federation tried to start a war on Naboo, and how you helped stop it.” Vespera leaned forward. “Please, Senator Amidala. A Republic invasion of Azyrion is not something I want to happen to my people. There aren’t many I can trust on Azyrion, and there are even fewer I trust in the Senate. For some reason, I feel inclined to trust you. I want to exhaust every option before allowing a Republic invasion.”

The corner of Amidala’s mouth downturned. “What’s your plan?”

Vespera sighed. “I’m not sure I can trust you with every detail, but I have a plan and people I trust to help me weaken the council’s authority. While I am not new to politics, I feel I am bit more naïve. I’d like your help.”

Amidala folded her hands on the desk. “I don’t know how much I can help you without knowing more, your highness.”

Vespera bit her lip. “Does Obi-Wan trust you?”

Amidala blinked. “I can’t speak for Obi-Wan, but I think so. We’re friends.”

Vespera trembled. Reaching out in the Force, Vespera encountered a bright warmth from Padme. _This is a friend._ Leaning forward, Vespera said, “What I am about to tell you must stay between us. My life depends on it.”

Amidala’s eyes widened, but indicated for Vespera to continue with the slightest incline of her head.

Vespera gripped the desk. “Dissolving the monarchy—well, oligarchy—is the best way to weaken my council. I need to educate my people on democracies, and I need to know the best way to dissolve the monarchy that will dismantle my council, too.”

Senator Amidala parted her lips. “If you dissolve the monarchy then you won’t be in power anymore.”

“I know.”

Amidala seemed to soften. “Do you have any contracts with your council, or your husband?”

Before Vespera could reply, someone burst into the room. The person looked sort of like Twi’lek, though with a more billed face and flatter lekku. Or ears.

“Senator Padme! There is muy muy bad things a-happenin’ on Naboo!” The creature flailed its arms. Vespera narrowed her eyes. A Nubian local… This creature was a Gungan.

Amidala looked to Vespera, before returning her gaze to the Gungan. “Jar Jar, what’s going on?”

“Theysa been trying to call yousa!”

“What?” Amidala looked at her comlink, which blinked rapidly. She answered the call. “Captain Typho, what is it?”

The blue holographic image of a man in Nubian gear flickered in the palm of Amidala’s hand. “We’ve spotted Separatist droids in the grasslands. It looks like a scout team.”

Amidala’s face drained of color. “Are you sure?”

“We’re positive. The queen requests that you send Jedi to investigate.”

Amidala frowned. “The Jedi have their own problems. I’m going to come and investigate myself. If it’s something we can handle on our own, let’s try that before we exhaust any Jedi.”

“Senator—”

But Amidala ended the call, looked at the Gungan—Jar Jar—and sighed before turning to Vespera. “Queen Vespera, I’m sorry, but this is urgent.”

Vespera stood, despite her heart crumpling in her chest. Getting Amidala’s help would prove the best way possible of taking down her council, but it seemed Naboo needed their senator more. “Of course.”

Senator Amidala paused. “I’m sorry we weren’t able to talk for longer.”

“As am I,” Vespera smoothed out her skirt, and then froze. “Senator Amidala?”

Amidala lifted her eyebrows. “Yes?”

“Do you think I could join you? I know this is Naboo’s business, but I’m afraid that Azyrion is— _I_ am—quite sheltered when it comes to issues happening outside of Azyrion. I want to see what the Separatists are capable of firsthand.”

Amidala’s brow creased. “We don’t know what the situation on Naboo entails, exactly…”

“I understand,” Vespera replied, her cheeks warming, “I’m sorry if I intruded.”

“No, I actually think it’s a good idea. If you could have evidence of the Separatists’ tyranny, it could convince your council to not make a deal with them.” Amidala brightened. “Very well, Queen Vespera. You may come with me and Jar Jar.”

The Gungan regarded Vespera brightly. “Yousa will see the clankas muy bad.”

Vespera dipped her head to Jar Jar, while Amidala ushered them out of the office and into a hangar, where they boarded a Nubian ship. While in hyperspace, Vespera sensed Amidala’s anxiety.

“Are you alright?”

Amidala rubbed her forehead. “I’m not sure. You said you know about how the Trade Federation tried to start a war on Naboo?”

“Admittedly, that’s all I know about it.”

“Well, they invaded. I was queen back then—and I was terrified that I would lose Naboo. This… I just hope this isn’t another invasion.”

Vespera picked at her fingernails. “Do the Separatists do this often? Occupy peaceful worlds?”

“And worse,” said Amidala darkly. “Your planet can’t secede and join them. I wouldn’t be surprised if they tried to force you.”

Vespera’s chest tightened. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

***

When they arrived at the Nubian palace in Theed, Senator Amidala nearly jumped from her seat at the captain’s chair. The loading ramp barely touched the ground before Amidala sprinted down it.

“We came as soon as we could, my lady!” Amidala said, followed closely by Jar Jar. The droid, C-3PO, waited for Vespera to follow the Gungan. She clasped her hands in front of her, feeling out of place at once. Queen Neeyutnee and Captain Typho eyed Vespera before returning their attention to Amidala when she asked, “Have you found anymore droids?”

“Only the three,” said Queen Neeyutnee. “But you can be sure they aren’t tourists. I need you to convince the Senate or the Jedi Council or whoever’s in charge of this terrible war that we are threatened.”

The queen wore ceremonial makeup native to Naboo, but her youth still shined through the white and red paint. She seemed tiny next to Captain Typho, who squared his shoulders beside her.

Amidala bowed her head. “They’ll need more proof. Finding a couple of battle droids will not be enough.”

Captain Typho’s comlink beeped. He held his wrist up closer to his chin.

_“Captain Typho! The battle droid is ready for analysis.”_

Typho lifted his head, meeting Amidala’s gaze with his good eye. He lowered his wrist and looked at Vespera, who tensed under the captain’s and queen’s stares.

“Apologies, madam, but we weren’t expecting… guests,” said Queen Neeyutnee.

“Before we go any further, we need to know who you are,” said Typho coolly.

“I am Queen Vespera of Azyrion,” said Vespera, lifting her chin.

“She’s a friend,” said Amidala, lifting her hands. “We should hurry.”

“Agreed,” said Queen Neeyutnee.

Vespera followed Amidala, Typho, the queen, and Jar Jar through the corridors until they arrived in what looked like a medbay.

As the doors slid open, Amidala queried, “Have you been able to retrieve any information?”

“Unfortunately, the Naboo security who discovered them prefer to shoot first and retrieve data later.” Queen Neeyutnee circled a table, upon which rested a rusty-looking droid. Vespera held her breath—she’d never seen a Separatist droid before. Jar Jar joined Neeyutnee, while Vespera stuck with Amidala on the other side of the table.

Amidala sighed. “If they were found in the grasslands, where’d they pick up all this mud?”

The Separatist droid’s feet were indeed caked with dried mud. Jar Jar lifted his billed face into the air and sniffed, turning away from the droid, heading instead to another table with the body of another droid on it. Vespera’s brow pinched, but Typho’s voice brought her attention back to the current droid.

“Add that to our very long list of questions.”

“Oh, yum-yummy!” said Jar Jar, dancing off. Even Queen Neeyutnee turned her attention toward the Gungan for a moment, an apprehension writ on her brow. The medical droid whirred a saw and cut into the Separatist droid’s visor-shaped head. Sparks flew, but Vespera and Amidala inched closer.

“I’m getting a bad feeling about this,” said C-3PO softly. “With you permission, Senator Padme, I would like to shut down before I get sensory overload.”

“Permission denied.”

“Denied?”

“Threepio, you may be able to get some information out of him.” Amidala gestured to the droid, who sat up quite suddenly. Vespera drew back from the table, her eyes wide.

“Cannot see. Where am I?” The droid’s metallic voice came out in a staccato rhythm as it jerked its head from side to side.

“You are in very good hands on board a Separatist ship. Count Dooku himself intends to reward you for your bravery,” Threepio said as Amidala whispered something to him.

“Bravery?” The Separatist’s surprised tone knotted Vespera’s stomach. How in the universe would this work?

“For your assignment on Naboo. Do try to activate what’s left of your memory. We all want to hear your tale of medical heroics.”

The droid’s speech warbled for a moment. Vespera bit her lip. Perhaps the droid was too damaged—

“Virus.”

Queen Neeyutnee and Typho raised their brows. Amidala nodded in encouragement to Threepio.

“Yes, the virus. You do remember. Please continue.”

In the distance, Jar Jar cried out, but no one heeded him any mind. Vespera sensed that this was often the case with the Gungan.

“A small amount leaked out. Must contain. Naboo cannot know. Lab must remain secret.”

“A secret lab on Naboo? Where? You must—” Amidala covered Threepio’s mouth.

“It is a secret. This is no Separatist ship.” The droid’s head continued jerking around.

Typho drew a blaster and pointed it at the droid. “Unless you want to become a box of spare parts, you’ll tell us where that lab is!”

A bang sounded, and the shelves in front of the table slammed against one another, crashing toward the droid.

“Look out!” Amidala cried, grabbing Neeyutnee and diving to the floor. Vespera scrambled back with Typho as the shelves crashed upon the Separatist droid and crushed it.

Typho crouched beside the remains of the droid. Electrical wires sizzled in the exposed parts of its head. “We’ll never get any information out of it now.”

Everyone turned their gazes to Jar Jar, who tugged an astromech head off his own. “Meesa sorry. It was only an accident.”

A bright blue bug fell out of the empty astromech head. Amidala crouched beside it and cleared her throat. “Is _this_ what you’re after?”

Jar Jar clasped his hands. “Meesa love him. He’s a very, very good tongue grabbing. Yousa finden only in one placen.”

“Where?” demanded Amidala.

“In the mud under the perlote tree!”

Amidala turned toward the battle droid’s remains, still partially visible under the shelves. “Like the mud on this droid. The eastern swamps! I think Jar Jar just found out the location of that lab.”

Vespera folded her arms. “ _That_ was convenient.” 

Typho snorted beside her.

***

Vespera opted out of the meeting among Queen Neeyutnee, Typho, Amidala, Jar Jar, and the Jedi. As much as she wanted to see the Jedi again, part of her did not want to, and did not want to be recognized. So, she waited in Amidala’s chambers in the palace.

It did not take long for Amidala to return, looking breathless. A strand of hair had come loose from her elaborate headdress. “We’re going to find the lab.”

Vespera stood from the sofa. “Allow me to come.”

Amidala hesitated. “I don’t know… This is turning out to be more dangerous than I thought. I don’t want the death of a monarch on my hands.”

Vespera’s lips twitched. “I _did_ used to be a Jedi. I can handle myself.”

Amidala lifted a brow and smiled. “Well, then. We should get changed.”

Vespera followed her into a closet.

“I’m afraid I don’t have many options, but thankfully we’re about the same size… Try this.”

“Should we wear protective gear, too?”

“There are suits on the ship.”

Amidala handed Vespera a pile of clothes. Vespera traced her fingers along the gold broach attached to the chest of the beige top. While Amidala dressed into a beige jumpsuit and maroon vest, Vespera slipped into light-colored pants, brown top, and matching arm sleeves.

“We’ll be sure to come back for your dress,” Amidala said as Vespera folded it neatly and placed it inside the closet.

“Thank you,” Vespera replied.

Amidala dipped her head. “Let’s go.”

***

After flying for nearly an hour, Amidala landed in the eastern swamps, near a cluster of mounds. Vespera squinted past the reflection on the glass of her protective suit. With an uncomfortable lurch in her stomach, she realized the mounds were the bodies of animals along the river.

“Make sure your helmet is secure,” said Amidala.

Vespera checked hers, but it was Jar Jar who seemed to struggle with the task more. With a sigh, Vespera latched Jar Jar’s helmet in place securely. Then, the three of them exited the ship to investigate the bodies.

“Ah,” said Jar Jar as they neared the animals. Their tongues lolled out, bluish in tint. “This is bombad. Whatsa happen to them?”

“It’s the plague,” said Amidala, inching closer to another one of the bodies. “We’re definitely getting close.”

The Force flared around them, dark and red—the indication of someone with harmful intentions—and Vespera twisted. Amidala grunted as a figure knocked her on the ground. Vespera ducked as the attacker swung a staff at her. The attacker—another Gungan—used the butt end of her staff to zap Jar Jar in the back. She tossed her staff to the side and yanked on Jar Jar’s helmet.

“Whosa are you? Whysa you here?” She pulled the helmet off Jar Jar’s head while Vespera picked up the staff and pointed it at the other Gungan.

“Whassa yousa thinkin’?” Jar Jar demanded, frantically covering his mouth.

“Don’t move!” cried Amidala, a silver blaster pointed at the female Gungan. Vespera leveled the staff at her. Amidala’s brow furrowed. “I don’t want to hurt you. Jar Jar, put your helmet back on.”

Jar Jar snatched his helmet from the pink Gungan and put it on, gasping. Amidala inched toward the female Gungan, blaster still raised. Vespera tilted her head as the pink Gungan raised her arms in surrender. Upon closer inspection, it seemed clear that this Gungan wasn’t sinister—just a simple farmer.

“Yousa okeyday! Is not in the air! It’s in the water!”

Amidala lowered her blaster and took off her helmet. “Who are you?”

“Meesa Peppi Bow,” said the pink Gungan. Vespera handed over Peppi’s staff and removed her own helmet.

“We think the virus that made your animals sick,” Amidala said, her brow smoothing of the fierce determination that creased it moments before. “We think it came from the perlote trees.”

“Yousa follow thisa river. Yousa finda yousa perlote. Meesa take you.” Peppi gestured toward the river.

“No, Peppi, you stay here,” Amidala placed a hand on Peppi’s shoulder. “You’ll be going home soon, I promise. I’ll send some soldiers to pick you up and take you back to Theed.”

***

The trees near the eastern swamps sat on tall roots, and their branches hung down in wisps. The humid air misted on Vespera’s bare face, and the protective, yellow suit seemed to cling to her body more with each step.

“Keep your eyes open,” said Amidala, flicking her head to the side, “Look for anything out of the ordinary.”

Jar Jar slipped on a stick and landed face-first in the mud. Vespera helped him sit up. The smeared mud on the ground revealed something metal underneath.

“A hatch,” Vespera and Jar Jar chorused.

Amidala brought her comlink close to her mouth. “Captain Typho, I think we’re standing right on top of the lab. I need a geo-scan of coordinates SP-127.” She crouched beside Vespera and Jar Jar. “No way we’re gonna open this.”

Something whirred behind them, and the distinct click of blaster readying to fire made the hair on the back of Vespera’s neck stand on end. Battle droids surrounded them.

“Freeze! Hold it right there.” The droid’s voice was oddly nasally. Jar Jar’s golden eyes widened and he placed a hand over his mouth.

“Remove your suits,” snapped one of the droids, jamming the nose of a blaster into Vespera’s back. She scowled, but Amidala nodded.

Jar Jar, Vespera, and Amidala stripped of their protective suits. Immediately, the battle droids cuffed Vespera and her companions before descending underground into the lab. The droids marched them into a round room, where a tall, bald man stood with his hands clasped behind his back. The droids shoved Vespera and her companions roughly toward the wall.

“Yousa let us go!” Jar Jar cried, struggling against his restraints.

“Who are you? Why are you holding us?” Amidala demanded.

The scientist in the middle of the room lifted a pair of goggles to his eyes, which magnified them almost comically. Instead of answering, he stepped closer, peering first at Jar Jar, then at Amidala, and then at Vespera. He got so close that the stench of chemicals burned Vespera’s nostrils. “Wonderful specimens! What are life-forms like you doing in a _swamp_ like this?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing,” snapped Amidala.

“Thanks to the support of my compassionate friends in the Separatist alliance, I am creating life!” The scientist lifted his gloved hands into fists of triumph.

“Howsa yousa creatin’ life?”

“I’m so pleased you inquired,” said the scientist, placing a hand over his chest. “A demonstration is in order.” He stalked toward the shelves, illuminated with a soft blue glow, on the sides of the room. Vespera squinted. Thousands of tiny vials lined the shelves. The scientist plucked one off a shelf and held it up. “Allow me to present the return of the infamous blue shadow virus!”

Vespera’s heart stuttered in her chest. No kriffing way.

“The blue shadow virus?” Amidala drew back. “I thought that deadly disease was extinct.”

“Yes, it was wiped from the galaxy generations ago, but I have given it life once again!” The scientist practically sang as he held up the vial of the smoky blue-green liquid.

Jar Jar let out a cry of disgust. “Yousa no creating life. Yousa takin’ life! Yousa poisoned the Gungan water.”

The scientist rocked back and forth. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah! Yes! Yeah, yeah! Unfortunately, the blue shadow virus in its natural form thrives only in water until I improved upon that weakness.” The scientist brought the vial to a pedestal in the back of the room and veered off to the side. He pulled a lever, and electricity zapped the vial in a brilliant, buzzing flash. Vespera’s skin hummed with the electric feel of the room.

The scientist cackled. “Your eyes do not deceive you! I have perfected an _airborne_ strain of the blue shadow virus.” 

Vespera squinted. Inside the vial was no longer liquid, but blue smoke. A droid waddled in, holding a sphere. “This is the last of the bombs, doctor.”

“I’m well aware this is the last. You think I’d lose count?” The scientist snatched the sphere from the droid. “The virus in its gaseous forms combined with these bombs will release the blue shadow virus back into the galaxy—” He slipped a vial inside the sphere— “more potent than ever before!”

“Are you insane? It’s a deadly disease!” Amidala cried.

“No life-forms are immune to it,” agreed Vespera. “That’s _why_ it was eradicated.”

“You mean murdered! Take this away.” The scientist handed over the bomb to the droid and turned back to Vespera and her companions. “Meanwhile, as we speak, thousands and thousands of so-called superior life-forms are spreading their disease of war throughout the galaxy. Perhaps they are the ones who should be eradicated.”

Vespera scowled. “But there are those who want no part in this war!”

The scientist waved a hand dismissively. Droids grabbed Vespera by the arms and led her—along with Amidala and Jar Jar—into another room, where they were cuffed to a pillar-shaped power conductor.

“I’m sorry I got you into this,” whispered Amidala.

Vespera shrugged. “It was my decision. Do you think anyone’s looking for us?”

“Maybe,” said Amidala, lowering her voice as a droid paced past them. “I mean, you’re a queen.”

“No one knows I’m here,” Vespera hissed.

“People think you’re still on Coruscant?”

“Er, no,” said Vespera. “I told my husband and council that I was going to Mandalore.”

“Oh,” said Amidala. “Do you think this will be enough to convince them not to join the Separatists?”

“One can only hope,” said Vespera. She rested her head against the power conductor. If someone activated it, it probably would kill her. Given the circumstances, Vespera’s odds weren’t that great, anyway.

“Could you use the Force?” whispered Amidala.

“Senator Amidala, with all your Jedi friends, I figured you’d have a better sense of how the Force works,” Vespera teased.

“Padme,” said Amidala. “You can call me Padme.”

“Does this mean we’re friends?”

Padme let out a small laugh. “We’re trapped in a secret lab filled with blue shadow bombs. I think we’re there.”

“Sounds good.”

***

Vespera had no idea how long they sat there—long enough for her arms to ache from the position—but she and Padme had long fallen silent. Vespera’s stomach growled. The last time she ate was that morning. It had to be evening, but the lack of windows made it hard to tell.

The facility shook, knocking the scientist off his feet. The droids guarding the room stumbled about while alarms wailed and lights flashed. Vespera thrust out her feet as she slid, pulling on her restraints uncomfortably.

“We have a breach!” cried the scientist. “All droids to hatch number one!” He approached Vespera and her companions, carrying a helmet. “Friends of yours, I assume. They arrived quicker than I would’ve thought!” He placed the glass helmet upon his head. Vespera’s heart jumped to her throat. Judging by the scientist’s suit, he planned to release the virus soon.

In the distance, blaster fire sounded. Vespera sensed Obi-Wan’s presence. However, through the glass of the sealed door, it was Anakin—along with a few clones—who charged forward. Anakin plunged his lightsaber into the door, melting the seals off. He blasted the door into pieces and stormed inside the room.

“Padme!” His eyes widened at the sight of her. Vespera lifted a brow.

“Take another step and your friends die!” The scientist stood by the lever to activate the power conductor. Vespera leaned forward, but her restraints kept her too close to it. The scientist pulled the lever, and electricity surged from the power conductor, arcing through Vespera’s body. It burned and seared—it felt like it had that brief moment when she’d been alone in the council room on Azyrion—through her muscles. She screamed, and Padme and Jar Jar screamed beside her. “Drop your weapons!”

“Do as he says,” said Anakin. The pain alleviated, and Vespera slumped, her body feeling like jelly. Some of her muscles continued to twitch as Anakin and the clones were surrounded by droids.

“I realize I won’t be able to hold you for long, Jedi. That is why I’m going to give you a choice.” The scientist placed a vial into secure container.

“Fine with me, as long as one of the options is killing you,” seethed Anakin, his arms held up in surrender.

“How about capture me, or save your friends?” The scientist slinked back to the lever and yanked it down, reactivating the electrical current. It felt as if her body was on fire, but somehow _sharper_. She squeezed her eyes shut, screaming as the pain nearly blinded her.

And then, it stopped. Vespera slumped over, panting.

“Are you okay?” Anakin asked to Vespera’s right.

“Ani, how about the next time you rescue me, you do it before you kill all the battle droids?”

“A little _thank you_ would go a long way.”

Vespera stirred, feeling as if she’d intruded on a very private scene. She sensed something between Anakin and Padme, though she chose to ignore it. She wasn’t that friendly with Padme yet.

Anakin cut Padme, Vespera, and Jar Jar free. Shakily, Vespera stood.

“What are _you_ doing here, your highness?” Anakin stared at Vespera incredulously.

Vespera lifted a brow. “I don’t think now’s the best time.”

“Right,” said Anakin. He turned to the clones. “Grab your blasters. We need to find that doctor.”

They sprinted down the corridor, in the direction the doctor had gone. Anakin’s comlink beeped, and Obi-Wan’s voice came through.

_“Anakin! I’m guessing you didn’t capture the doctor.”_

“I’m working on it!” Anakin yelled back. He slowed to a stop when they reached crossroads of corridors. “Do you have the bombs?”

_“I’m working on it. Dr. Vindi has remotely activated the bombs. They’re counting down!”_

Anakin picked a corridor and led the group in a sprint. “That’s great!”

_“And on top of all that, one of them seems to be missing!”_

“It’s down here somewhere,” said Anakin. “Ahsoka, we’ve got another situation. Send all the clones to search the facility. We’ve got a miss—”

He stopped when they reached another crossroads, running right into Ahsoka and three other clones. “Master?” Ahsoka prompted.

“We’ve got a missing bomb, and a trigger-happy mad doctor on the loose.”

“Missing bomb?” Padme said. “I saw Dr. Vindi give a little droid a bomb.”

“You guys split up. Find that droid.” Anakin took off with his squad down one corridor, while Ahsoka took off down another, leaving Vespera with Padme and Jar Jar.

“Come on, let’s find that droid,” said Vespera. She, Padme, and Jar Jar took off down another corridor. They passed an open doorway, but Jar Jar stopped, his nose in the air. Vespera and Padme slowed to a stop.

“Oh, something smells good in here!” Jar Jar entered the room. Sitting in pots in neat rows were blue-leaved plants. A pleasant floral smell wreathed the air. A slight ticking sound grew muffled under one of the tables. Vespera remained close to the door while Padme and Jar Jar crept further into the room. Padme crouched.

“Hey, there, little guy… How about you hand that over to me?” Padme extended a hand.

Something underneath the table screeched. Padme and Jar Jar cried out, both leaping backward. The odd-looking droid from earlier waddled out from under the table, cradling the bomb. Jar Jar leaped and grabbed the droid’s foot, tripping it. The bomb rolled toward Vespera, who picked it up and tossed it to Padme. Once released, the droid scampered off.

“Ahsoka, I found the last bomb.”

_“Stay there. I’ll get the bomb squad.”_

Vespera’s heart fluttered when the bomb squad entered. The clones worked on the bomb, but Vespera and Padme remained in the room, holding their breath as the notches of time inched nearer and nearer toward detonation…

The clone clipped a wire and the bomb’s glowing red light dimmed to darkness. “Deactivated. With plenty of time to spare.”

“Plenty of—oh!” Jar Jar collapsed onto the floor.

 _“Ahsoka, are you there?”_ Anakin’s voice sounded through Ahsoka’s comlink.

“I’m here, Master. The bomb has been deactivated. Did you find Vindi?”

_“Deactivated as well. Have you seen Padme?”_

“She’s right next to me,” said Ahsoka, grinning at Padme. “I’m okay, too. Thanks for asking.”

Vespera snorted. Padme smiled slightly as she turned to face Vespera.

“So, do you think this was enough to convince your council?”

“I think so,” Vespera looked around at the clones, letting out a long breath. “So, what now?”

“If you’re ready to go back to Azyrion, I don’t blame you,” said Padme.

“You could hitch a ride with Obi-Wan and Anakin,” added Ahsoka.

Vespera frowned. “What will you two be doing?”

“I suppose cleaning up here,” said Padme.

“Well, then, I’d like to stay and help. I’m in no rush to go back to my husband.”

Ahsoka lifted a brow. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

Vespera exchanged a glance with Padme before shrugging. “I just like getting into trouble, I guess.”

“It’s no wonder you two get along,” said Ahsoka, rolling her eyes.

Vespera smiled and folded her arms. The Force around her glowed with a warm light blue. _These were friends_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter!
> 
> Please let me know what you thought! I love hearing from you guys.
> 
> Preview: Obi-Wan grows concerned as his connection to Vespera seems to intensify, and the threat of the blue shadow virus lingers…


	8. Chapter Seven

Obi-Wan itched to talk to Vespera, who conversed with Padme and Ahsoka, but his duty to deliver Dr. Vindi to the city of Theed prevented him. So, he left Vespera with Padme, Ahsoka, and Captain Rex in the bunker and escorted a cuffed Dr. Vindi aboard a ship to take him to Theed. Anakin paused on the loading ramp, his eyes scanning the Nubian trees, wind ruffling his hair.

“That was _close_. If that virus had escaped, everyone on Naboo would be dead now.”

Obi-Wan shrugged and feigned nonchalance. “Oh well, just another _boring_ day saving the universe.”

Anakin snorted. “Alright, let’s take this sleemo back to Theed so we can help Padme, Ahsoka, and Vespera clean up down there.”

Obi-Wan nodded. He assumed Vespera would want to come along with them to Theed and return to Azyrion, but it seemed she was in no hurry to return to her home planet. Anakin smirked at Obi-Wan as he walked up the loading ramp.

“Weird running into her, huh? Small galaxy.”

Obi-Wan lifted a brow at his former Padawan, opening his mouth to issue a sarcastic reply, but the piercing sound of alarms from within the bunker cut him off.

Dr. Vindi cackled. “The virus is liberated! You are doomed, young Jedi, along with the rest of the planet!”

The ground shook violently, sending Obi-Wan and Anakin stumbling for balance. Anakin widened his eyes. “What was that?”

Obi-Wan and Anakin boarded the ship and shut the loading ramp while Anakin frantically called Ahsoka on his comlink. “What is going on down there?”

 _“The droids released the virus, but we managed to seal the lab.”_ Ahsoka’s voice sounded.

“And Padme?” Anakin demanded.

_“Haven’t heard from her or Queen Vespera since the bomb.”_

Obi-Wan tensed as he forced Dr. Vindi into a seat, strapping him in. _Haven’t heard from her or Queen Vespera since the bomb._ He reached out with the Force, relaxing a little when he felt Vespera, still alive but anxious.

“ _Anakin, can you hear me? Anakin_?” Padme’s voice buzzed through Anakin’s comlink.

“Padme, I’m here. Are you alright?”

Obi-Wan folded his arms and furrowed his brow as Anakin held his comlink close to his mouth, eyes wide with unconcealed worry.

“ _Yes, for the time being. Jar Jar, Vespera, and I were in a safety chamber when the alarm went off. We’re wearing protective suits._ ” 

Anakin relaxed, and Obi-Wan released some tension in his muscles, too. Anakin turned away from Dr. Vindi. “The virus is loose but Ahsoka has sealed off the entire facility.”

“ _Yes, but any remaining droids will try to break out. We’ll do what we can to stop them. We cannot let that virus escape_.”

“Be careful.” Anakin turned back, a dark look on his face. He drew his lightsaber and pointed it at Dr. Vindi. “Where’s the antidote?”

Obi-Wan widened his eyes at Anakin.

Dr. Vindi laughed. “You mistake my role, Jedi! My job was to manufacture a plague, not to cure it.”

“We don’t have time for games,” Anakin growled.

“Patience, Anakin. There’s more than one way to skin a womprat.” Obi-Wan cut a glare in Vindi’s direction.

Anakin jabbed the saber toward Vindi, who cackled. “Yes, kill me now and spare these old bones the blue shadow’s dire embrace, because once the first droid breaks out of the laboratory, all Naboo is doomed!”

Obi-Wan scowled at the doctor, but his stomach knotted. And their friends would be doomed first. Anakin curled his lip, contorting his face into a look that Obi-Wan could only describe as murderous.

“Anakin, the fastest way to help Senator Amidala and Ahsoka is to get Vindi back to the capital and find an actual antidote,” Obi-Wan said gently. He relaxed when Anakin deactivated his saber.

When they arrived in Theed, Captain Typho greeted them. As guards led Dr. Vindi away to a containment cell, Typho led Obi-Wan and Anakin to terminal.

“You think you found a cure?” Anakin asked.

“Possibly,” said Typho, pulling up a holoimage of a root. “A little-known extract made from reeksa root, a weed-like vine found only on Iego, the world of a thousand moons deep in Separatist-controlled space.”

“Let’s go,” said Anakin.

“You must move cautiously if you—”

But Anakin turned away from Typho. “There’s no time for caution! My Padawan is trapped down there, and so is Padme!” Anakin froze, meeting Obi-Wan’s gaze. The least Anakin could do was _try_ and practice subtlety. Anakin averted Obi-Wan’s lifted brow. “I mean, Senator Amidala.”

“I applaud your courage, General Skywalker,” said Typho, clasping his hands behind his back, “but it’s suicide. Once we contain the virus, we can send troops.”

By the time Nubian forces could contain the virus, send troops, retrieve the root, and fashion a cure, everyone in the bunker would be dead. Obi-Wan placed a hand on Anakin’s shoulder, but he knocked Obi-Wan’s hand away.

“No. Obi-Wan and I can handle it.” Anakin stomped off, and Obi-Wan followed him.

“I concur, Anakin.”

***

The tension on their ship as they traveled through hyperspace stretched between them. Obi-Wan sighed after several moments of suffocating silence. “Anakin—”

“Why aren’t you worried? Your friends are down there, too!” Anakin snapped.

Obi-Wan furrowed his brow. Anakin’s words stung. “I _am_ worried.”

“You don’t seem like it.”

“Like I told you earlier, I’m better at hiding it.”

Anakin merely huffed.

Obi-Wan’s heart clenched. “Padme and Ahsoka will be fine.”

“They will be if we succeed.”

The ship dropped out of hyperspace, and a soft orange planet backdropped floating debris. Not just any debris—destroyed _ships_.

“What do you make of this?” Anakin muttered.

“It looks like a graveyard,” Obi-Wan breathed. Their ship drifted past a corpse, suspended in the vacuum of space, as Anakin navigated the debris. “Of ships.”

Normally, Anakin would make some comment about a situation like this, but it was clear that his mind was elsewhere. Well, not just anywhere. Anakin’s mind was inside a contaminated bunker on Naboo with a certain senator.

As soon as they landed on a platform, Anakin jumped up. “Let’s go!”

Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes. Outside the viewport were dozens of battle droids. “Anakin—”

But Anakin was already halfway down the loading ramp. With a sigh, Obi-Wan followed. He descended the ramp slowly as Anakin cut through one, two, three—and counting—battle droids that repeated, “Welcome to Iego,” over and over.

“Anakin, wait!”

But Anakin continued hacking through droids that did not defend themselves. Obi-Wan sighed, still counting the droids. He reached seventeen by the time Anakin realized something was indeed off about these droids. Obi-Wan sauntered over to his friend.

“ _Very_ impressive. You just destroyed seventeen defenseless battle droids without suffering a scratch.”

Another droid collapsed. Anakin deactivated his lightsaber. “Eighteen, actually.”

One of the repurposed battle droids with a painted face said, “The venerable Jaybo Hood requests an audience.”

“Jaybo?” Obi-Wan and Anakin said together.

“Hey!” A young boy—no older than twelve—marched toward them. “You guys have any idea how long it took me to repurpose those droids?”

“ _You’re_ Jaybo?” Anakin queried.

“Well, do you?” Jaybo demanded, scooping up a head of one of the many droids Anakin destroyed. The dirty boy tossed the droid head over his shoulder.

“I apologize for my friend’s rather rash behavior,” Obi-Wan said.

“Nine months, man. It took me nine months!” Jaybo slapped his hands to his sides, and then jumped onto a hammock. Obi-Wan lifted a brow at Anakin. They needed help finding reeksa root, and this boy might be their best chance of either finding it, or directing them to someone who could. Lives depended on it.

While one droid played relaxing music, another fanned Jaybo. Obi-Wan shrugged at Anakin, who neared one of the droids.

“How’d a kid like you come by this many battle droids, anyway?”

“Simple. When the Separatists took off, they left all this junk behind. I got a whole warehouse full of ‘em right over there.” Jaybe jabbed his thumb in the direction of some heavy-set doors behind him.

“So, you programmed them to serve you.” Obi-Wan couldn’t help but be impressed.

“No reason to let a good droid rust, right?”

Anakin hummed, still observing the droids. “Looks like you used a macro protocol to wipe them all simultaneously. Impressive.” 

Jaybo sat up. “I see you know your droids. You’re Jedi, aren’t you? Want me to show you how I did it?”

Obi-Wan lifted his hands. “Perhaps another time. What we need now is reeksa root. Do you know where we can find some?”

Jaybo leaned back with a snort. “Here, there, everywhere.”

“We don’t have time for games, kid. Where’s the root?” Anakin’s tone hardened.

Obi-Wan nudged Anakin with his arm and frowned. This wasn’t Dr. Vindi, this was just a kid. No need to be too harsh with him. “What my friend is trying to say is that we are in a bit of a hurry.”

Jaybo laughed shortly. “Not anymore you’re not.”

Anakin lurched forward, fists clenched. “Look, you little—”

“This system is haunted, cursed, whatever. Anyway, Jedi or not, no one gets off this rock alive. Not past Drol.” Underneath Jaybo’s drawling tone seethed something else—bitterness, or disappointment, perhaps. This was something Jaybo was tired of saying.

“Drol?” Obi-Wan lifted a brow as some of the droids around them trembled at the mention of Drol.

“Yeah, Drol. The phantom ruler of Iego. He destroys everything that leaves the planet. Fifty of the best star pilots in the galaxy have tried. Fifty tried, fifty died.”

“I suppose that explains the ruined ships in the moon belt.” Obi-Wan furrowed his brow. Perhaps the ghost of Drol was a legend, but whatever created that graveyard in Iego’s atmosphere was very real. It would probably prove problematic when it was time to leave.

“First things first. We’ll have to deal with this Drol later,” said Anakin. Obi-Wan nodded. There was no need to worry about leaving Iego until they had what they came for.

***

Half an hour later, wearing a pack to store the reeksa root, Obi-Wan and Anakin clambered over a ledge to scale a cliff. Thick vines snaked up the cliff face. Jaybo, on all fours, peeked down at Obi-Wan and Anakin as they descended toward the darkness below.

“Are you coming?” Obi-Wan challenged.

“You’ve got to be kidding. No way I’m going down there.”

“You trying to tell us something?” Anakin queried, a few feet lower than Obi-Wan.

“Don’t worry, it’s simple: follow the vines to the bottom, dig up the roots, but don’t touch the vines.”

Obi-Wan inched away from one of the vines. “Aside from the obvious, why not?”

“Because the plants don’t like it, and they have big, sharp teeth!” Jaybo cried.

“ _Teeth_?” Anakin demanded. “This is getting better by the minute.”

“And watch out for the flying xandu!”

A sharp pain cut through Obi-Wan’s left arm. He gritted his teeth and dropped onto the ledge below him. The pain in his arm felt akin to blaster fire. 

“What’s a xandu?” Anakin queried.

“I’m not sure,” Obi-Wan said tightly, rolling his shoulder. The pain vanished as quickly as it happened, though it still unnerved him. A deep rumble within the cliff shook the ground under his feet. A flying creature burst from an opening in the cliff, screeching. It knocked Anakin into the air, but he caught the back foot of the creature—the xandu—which flapped around frantically, unable to ascend any higher. Anakin was too heavy for it.

“Master, hop on!”

Obi-Wan waited for the xandu to circle around, and then leaped forward and caught the other foot. “This isn’t going to work!”

The xandu descended, though it still struggled to fly upwards. As it descended, Obi-Wan’s throat ached and his lungs seemed constricted. The physical ailment vanished quickly, though it ebbed in and out. He swallowed. He didn’t have time to feel unwell; they still needed to accomplish their mission.

The xandu descended toward the cavern floor. Obi-Wan widened his eyes.

“There! Those are the roots we’re looking for!”

“Oh, poodoo,” Anakin muttered. Poodoo was right: They were moving too fast and would need to jump. Obi-Wan and Anakin dropped to the ground. The impact shocked up Obi-Wan’s legs as he rolled—right over one of the vines they weren’t supposed to touch.

Out of the ground burst enormous vines with heads. Four heads, with four mouths full of very sharp teeth. Obi-Wan gritted his teeth as the discomfort in his lungs returned, dizzying him. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

Anakin withdrew a small shovel from his pack and dropped to the ground.

“Don’t take too long with that.”

“I’ll go as fast as I can,” Anakin grunted, digging into the ground.

Obi-Wan’s throat burned and there did not seem to be enough air. The dizziness returned and disappeared.

“Anakin, hurry.”

The four heads seemed blind, as they twisted and hissed without seeing, but a particularly loud clang from Anakin’s spade caught their attention. All four heads whipped in their direction.

“Anakin, _now_!”

“Okay, okay! Got it!” Anakin ripped the root from the ground and stuffed it in Obi-Wan’s pack. They sprinted away as the plants dived for them, hissing and screeching. As Obi-Wan ran, his lungs seemed to constrict and burn more. The lightheadedness returned, but he pushed on. Channeling the Force, he leaped up and grabbed hold of the rocks, climbing the cliff wall at a miraculous speed. Anakin was only a few inches ahead of them. The monster screeched behind them. Anakin and Obi-Wan ignited their sabers at the same time. When the creature swiped toward them, Anakin cut off all four heads in one fluid motion.

Panting, Obi-Wan deactivated his saber and belted it. He resumed climbing, though at a slower pace than Anakin, who reached the top first.

“You made it!” Jaybo cried. “I knew you would.”

Obi-Wan reached the top and smirked. “Oh, _did_ you?”

Using a trick Qui-Gon taught him, Obi-Wan breathed in and allowed the Force to replenish his energy. The lightheadedness, burning lungs, and aching body disappeared. Where in the universe was that coming from?

Obi-Wan and Anakin followed Jaybo along the walkway they used to get to the cliff to return to their ship. Jaybo seemed happy to have company, as he talked the entire way back.

“The place dried up once the spice convoy stopped running. Out here we’re just one of the millions of little backwaters no one cares about. Those of us who are left can’t leave because of the curse.” The nonchalance that coated Jaybo’s tone sent a surge of sympathy stabbing through Obi-Wan.

An elderly voice wailed. Obi-Wan and Anakin turned toward the source. A quarren stepped out from behind a stack of crates. “Cursed, we are! The planet is cursed.”

Obi-Wan folded his arms. “Cursed by whom, my twitchy friend?”

“The ghost of Drol, that’s who!”

“A ghost?” Anakin muttered, eyeing Obi-Wan. It was odd that it wasn’t just the young Jaybo who believed in this curse.

“The spirit of the thousand moons, our protector and destroyer.” The quarren bowed his head.

“If you ask me, it sounds like a load of—”

“Superstition?” Obi-Wan cut Anakin off.

Anakin rolled his eyes. “That’s _one_ word for it.”

“Superstition, you say?” The quarren slapped a transmission device onto a crate. A holovid of a Rodian pilot flickered into view.

 _“Can’t hold on much—”_ He broke off as electricity surged over him. His body jolted and jerked. It was a pain Obi-Wan was too familiar with. _“Someone, help me!”_ The terror in the Rodian’s voice sent a chill down Obi-Wan’s spine. Then, the Rodian exploded. Obi-Wan widened his eyes.

Sorrow rolled off of Jaybo, who hung his head. “That was Taquito. He was a friend of mine.”

Obi-Wan closed his eyes for a moment, feeling a fresh sting of sympathy.

The quarren scooped up his device. “Try to leave this planet, and your fate will be the same.”

Perhaps Obi-Wan and Anakin had been harsh to criticize this ghost of Drol. While Obi-Wan did not believe it was an actual ghost, he believed Jaybo’s grief and the holorecording. Something killed Taquito and the other pilots. The people of Iego just gave name to the destruction as a way to cope and comprehend it.

But they also _had_ to get to Naboo. Whatever this Drol was, Obi-Wan and Anakin had no choice but to face it. So, they returned to their ship.

“The ghost of Drol may be a local superstition, but something real blew up those ships,” Obi-Wan mused as he took his seat. 

“Real we can handle,” Anakin muttered. Then he added to his comlink, which was connected to Jaybo’s com: “Thank for your help, kid. We couldn’t have done it without you.”

_“Have you run into Drol yet?”_

Obi-Wan smirked as the ship cut through the ship graveyard in Iego’s moon belt. “Not to worry, Jaybo.”

But Obi-Wan spoke too soon. Golden lasers zigzagged across their path, creating a kind of deadly net. “ _There’s_ our ghost!”

“Lasers!” Anakin growled, steering away from one that nearly cut through their ship.

“We’ve triggered an energy field. Turn the ship around. We’ll never make it through.”

With a sigh, Anakin turned the ship around and returned to the port.

Obi-Wan furrowed his brow. “The Separatists must have installed those lasers to prevent the people from leaving the planet.”

As they unbuckled their seatbelts, a holotransmission sputtered into view. Obi-Wan froze. Ahsoka, Padme, and Vespera looked terrible. Wrapped around Vespera’s left arm was a bandage. Absentmindedly, Obi-Wan touched his arm in the place where it hurt earlier.

 _“Master, can you hear me?”_ Ahsoka’s voice flickered.

“Artoo, amplify the signal!” Anakin yelled. Artoo beeped.

 _“Destroyed… all the battle droids… inside the compound, Master.”_ Ahsoka swayed.

Obi-Wan squinted at her. Dark shadows wreathed under eyes and darkened her veins, like poisonous branches. The same dark blue stained Padme and Vespera, though it appeared in an earlier stage than Ahsoka’s. Obi-Wan’s stomach knotted. They were infected.

Ahsoka dissolved into a fit of coughs. Padme comforted her, and Vespera stepped forward. _“Naboo is safe from further contamination. I repeat: Naboo is safe.”_

Padme looked up; her brow curved with sorrow. _“Promise me that no one will ever open this bunker. Goodbye, Anakin. I…”_ Padme coughed, and the transmission ended.

“No!” Anakin cried. He jumped up before Obi-Wan, who still felt winded by what he just witnessed, could say anything. Obi-Wan hurried after Anakin, who was already halfway down the loading ramp. “We’ll borrow a power converter from Jaybo and reprogram it to feed our—”

“Slow down, Anakin,” Obi-Wan insisted.

Anakin wheeled around. “Slow down? _Slow down_? You saw them, Master. They’re dying!”

Obi-Wan’s chest clenched, but he forced himself to remain calm. “A great leap forward often requires first taking two steps back.”

“And sometimes all it requires is the will to jump,” snapped Anakin.

Obi-Wan sighed. “At least hear me out on this.”

For a moment, it looked like Anakin might argue. But then, he gave the slightest inclination of his head.

***

It took some convincing of the citizens of Iego, but Obi-Wan and Anakin finally managed to convince them of their plan to disable the laser field. Obi-Wan and Anakin returned to their ship.

 _“Ready, General Kenobi.”_ Jaybo’s voice filled the ship through their comlinks.

“Jaybo, activate the vulture droids. Now, transfer control of the droids to Artoo,” said Anakin. Artoo beeped and wheeled to the ship’s console when Jaybo did as Anakin said.

The ship sped forward, triggering the energy field as planned. Obi-Wan’s fingers hovered over the triggers for the blasters. As the lasers cut across their path, Obi-Wan shouted, “Artoo, intercept the lasers! Send the vulture droids directly into the laser generator.”

Artoo beeped an affirmative. The vulture droids sped forward and exploded in the generator. Wrinkling his nose, Obi-Wan opened fire on the primary node. It burst into flames and debris, deactivating the lasers and energy field.

 _“You guys okay? Guys?”_ Jaybo sounded frantic.

“We’re fine, kid,” said Anakin as they sped away from the debris. “I’m afraid you’ll need some new droids to boss around, Jaybo. The ones you lent us are pretty much toast.”

Obi-Wan smirked. “But the good news is that you’re now free to leave Iego whenever you choose.”

Anakin ended the transmission with Jaybo, and then swiveled in his seat. “Artoo, set a course for Naboo.”

When they entered hyperspace, Obi-Wan closed his eyes and reached out with the Force. Following the tether that still connected him with Vespera, Obi-Wan held his breath. He released it when he felt Vespera on the other side, still alive. She was weak—so weak she probably did not even feel him reaching out to her—and in a lot of pain. Obi-Wan concentrated, reaching further until he could see her as he had before.

Her surroundings were a white void, but Vespera was as clear as if she were right before him. Obi-Wan frowned at her, and his chest clenched. She lied on the floor, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. Her veins were nearly black, and the poisonous branches of the blue shadow virus crept up her throat and out from under her eyes. She met his gaze. “Obi… Wan…?”

Obi-Wan withdrew from the vision with a jerk. He doubted that _vision_ was the right word for it, since he viewed Vespera in the present moment. The Force bond they seemed to share felt oddly intense for its brief life. He felt it when Vespera got shot, and he felt Vespera getting sick—that explained the burning lungs and lightheadedness—which meant their bond possessed a strength that usually came with years of companionship. As soon as Vespera recovered, Obi-Wan needed to discuss this connection they shared.

“Master? You alright?” Anakin queried.

“Yes, just tired.” Obi-Wan stared ahead, still dazed.

When they dropped out of hyperspace and landed on Naboo, all they had to do was wait. Already, Nubian doctors and scientists had set up a pressurized enclosure over the entrance hatch to the bunker to prevent any gas from leaking. The reeksa root was quickly transformed into a cure, both in liquid and gaseous form. The reeksa gas neutralized the blue shadow gas within the bunker, and an extraction team retrieved the survivors from the facility.

Anakin immediately rushed to Padme’s stretcher. Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, but walked over to Vespera, who already seemed to be recovering, though still weak.

“I don’t see you for over ten years and now I see you twice in mere weeks of each other?” Obi-Wan teased.

“I know, I’m spoiling you,” Vespera replied hoarsely. Obi-Wan’s heart clenched—Vespera sounded so terrible—and he backed away to let the doctors treat her. Jar Jar wobbled around, struggling to take his helmet off. Obi-Wan sighed and steadied the Gungan.

“I heard you were quite brave fending off the battle droids, Jar Jar.”

“Really?”

“Senator Amidala suggested we offer you training to help hone your skills with a blaster.” That wasn’t the only reason Padme suggested this. Part of the reason Vespera got shot was by protecting Jar Jar.

“ _Really_?” Jar Jar’s eyes brightened.

“Really.”

Jar Jar jumped up and danced around. “Oh, boy! I’m a-gonna be trained!”

Rex scowled from his stretcher. “I am not training _him_.”

Obi-Wan swallowed a chuckle. He chose not to bother Vespera with his questions about their connection in the Force until she received the full antidote and they returned to the palace. Before Obi-Wan and Anakin returned to their Venators, Obi-Wan sought out Vespera. He found her in the hangar of the palace, sitting on the floor with her feet dangling over the edge, staring at the brilliant pink sunset.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Vespera’s voice sounded less hoarse. Obi-Wan sat beside her, propping one knee up.

“Yes,” he agreed. “I don’t get many moments like this anymore.”

“You don’t see the sunset anymore?”

“Well,” Obi-Wan said, his cheeks popping with a cheeky smile, “there aren’t many sunsets in space.”

Vespera chuckled softly. “Of course.”

Perhaps now wasn’t the time to talk about the Force. But the itch to know if it was entirely mutual burned under his skin. Obi-Wan drew in a hesitant breath. “Vespera, I have to ask you something.”

“Alright.” She sounded weary.

“There was a moment, back on Azyrion, when I saved your life, and something happened—”

“The Force,” Vespera breathed. “It…”

“You felt it, too?” Obi-Wan’s chest lightened. He wasn’t alone in this, at least. 

Vespera nodded. “I was worried you didn’t feel it, or that I was losing my mind.”

Obi-Wan smirked. “Well, if you are, then I must be, too.”

“I meditated, and I felt this pull, and it was like—”

“A tether,” Obi-Wan finished quietly.

A wave of anxiety spiked off Vespera. “I _saw_ you. Your surroundings were blurred, but I saw you. I don’t know if it was the present moment, or the future, or even the past, but I swear you _looked_ at me. Was that… Was that in my imagination, or could you see me, too?”

Obi-Wan widened his eyes. “Vespera, I reached out, too. I saw you, and Callan—”

“I saw you!” V gasped, turning away from the sunset and wringing her hands. “You were standing behind Callan. I thought it was a vision…” She bit her lip. “I think I pushed you out.”

“That would explain why I was abruptly forced out of meditation.”

Vespera bowed her head, and shame curled off her. Obi-Wan’s stomach twisted. He didn’t want to embarrass her, and the urge to be honest with her—to say that what Callan did to her disgusted him and he wished he could help her—but the words didn’t fall from his lips. He was usually a skilled conversationalist, but in this moment, words failed him.

“So, what does this all mean?” Vespera’s question yanked Obi-Wan from his thoughts.

His shoulders slumped. “I’m not sure. Perhaps Master Yoda—”

“No,” Vespera bit.

Obi-Wan frowned at her. “We obviously lack the knowledge and wisdom to understand what is going on—”

“I can’t go to the Jedi.”

“Don’t you want to know what’s going on, or why the Force is connecting us?”

Vespera looked away. The sunset painted her face in brilliant gold light. The remnants of the blue shadow virus’s touch had nearly disappeared from her features. “I’m not sure. I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

Obi-Wan’s stomach churned and he gritted his teeth. Why wouldn’t she want to find answers? Why did she not want to seek the Jedi? It wasn’t like she left on bad terms with them. In fact, she was positively remembered by those at the Order. Obi-Wan reached out with the Force, but Vespera shut him out with a mental wall as strong and cold as a ship’s hull.

“Don’t try and read my emotions, Kenobi. The Force might be connecting us, but you’re not privy to everything about me,” Vespera snapped. She stood, and Obi-Wan followed suit, furrowing his brow.

“I apologize—”

“Until next time, General Kenobi.” Vespera bowed her head and stalked away. Her hair gleamed in the last bits of light before shadows blanketed her, and Obi-Wan’s heart sank into the pit of his stomach as Vespera’s cold tone continued to cut him, even in her absence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, more Obi-Wan/Vespera moments! Thank you all for the support. Please leave some feedback!


	9. Chapter Eight

Vespera placed Padme’s clothes, folded neatly, onto a shelf in the closet. Craning her neck, Vespera ran her fingers along a silver sleeve of one of the hanging gowns. Her footsteps came out muffled thanks to the plush carpet. As Vespera exited the massive closet, the carpeted floor switched to marble. She descended a set of steps and entered a sitting area that was open to Coruscant. The neon skyline glowed in the sunset. Padme sat upon one of the white sofas, arranged in a semicircle in the center of the massive room.

“The Senate set you up nicely,” Vespera commented, taking a seat across from Padme.

Padme flushed. “Actually, it was Naboo who afforded this. Senators usually decorate their apartments based on their home worlds.”

“I see.” Vespera toyed with the hem of her sleeve.

“How’s your arm?”

“Mostly healed, thanks to the bacta.” Vespera beamed.

“I’m so sorry this all happened,” Padme shook her head. “I should never have let you come along.”

“You didn’t know what was going to happen,” Vespera replied. “And I’ve been shot at before.”

“Right. I forget that you used to be a Jedi.”

“I served on the frontlines during the Civil War on my planet, too,” Vespera added. “It’s always been expected of kings, and when they told me to hide in a bunker… I refused. I’m no stranger to getting shot at, nor do I shy away from danger.”

“And yet you’re a pacifist,” said Padme.

“Naboo is pacifist, yet you’re in a war.”

“Yes, but we have to fight for what’s right.”

“I’m not disagreeing with you. I believe the same.”

Padme scrunched her brow. “Vespera, can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“If you dissolve the oligarchy, won’t you be changing thousand-year-old traditions on your planet?”

Vespera tensed. “Just because traditions have been in place for a thousand years, doesn’t make them right.”

“Is it right to change your people’s culture?”

“ _Tyranny_ is not Azyrion’s culture,” Vespera gritted out. “Misogyny is not our culture, either.”

Padme widened her eyes. “I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant. It seems part of your culture hinges on a monarchy. The fact that your ancestry can be traced back…”

“Dynasties rise and fall, as they have in the past,” said Vespera. “Azyrion values family and bloodlines, yes, but more than that. When I was a Jedi, Master Plo encouraged me to understand the culture of my home planet, so I studied it. The bloodline of monarchs is important because monarchs are supposed to be seen as caretakers of our world. But this oligarchy isn’t caring for my people. They care about themselves and upholding traditions, but some of these very traditions are hurting my people. Somewhere along the way, the monarchy changed, and the Stellavis line is no longer caring for Azyrion the way it should. That’s why I want to dissolve the oligarchy. Naboo elects monarchs, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, we do.”

“I think the people of Azyrion would appreciate that style. Choosing their monarch should inspire patriotism, one would hope.”

“One would hope,” Padme agreed quietly.

Vespera narrowed her eyes. “Is something bothering you?”

Padme shifted. “I—When we were in that bunker, and the blue shadow virus nearly took our lives… When we were hunting down those droids… You never seemed to waver. You never insisted on your own importance. You’re a queen, and you still accepted that it was best if we died with the virus if there was no other way out.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No, of course not.” Padme looked at her hands for a moment. “You just acted like a Jedi down there.”

Vespera squared her shoulders. “Oh.”

“That’s not a bad thing,” said Padme quickly, “it just made me wonder if there was more to your decision about abdicating your throne.”

Vespera widened her eyes. In truth, abdicating her throne would relieve a lot of weight from her shoulders. She had never heard of a Jedi returning to the Jedi Order, but perhaps… Her heart sank. There was no way that could happen. Jedi made vows to the Order, and if a Jedi chose to leave, they broke those vows. The Order couldn’t just allow people back in and remake those vows. No, Vespera’s destiny as a Jedi collapsed the day she chose to leave to help Azyrion.

But there was someone who still needed her, someone she could make a vow to and spend every day of her life loving: her daughter, Kenna.

The urge to tell Padme of Kenna’s existence burned Vespera’s tongue, but she bit down. No one should know of Kenna. The less who knew, the safer Kenna would be, as lonely as her poor life was.

“My time as a Jedi is over.” Vespera’s voice hitched in her throat. She swallowed. “I just want what’s best for my people.”

“I respect that. I’ll do everything I can to help you.” Padme’s lips quirked. “But I think you’re wrong about your time as a Jedi. I think that deep down, you’re still a Jedi, and you always will be in many ways.”

Vespera’s heart tightened. “Albeit a very strange one, I suppose.”

“Strange indeed.” Padme straightened. “I have an idea about how we can help Azyrion.”

“I’m listening.”

***

Vespera walked through the tall grass of Tatum, her daughter’s hand clenched tightly in her own. Kenna hummed an Azyrionian lullaby, one that Vespera used to sing to her before bed. They stopped at a large tree. Kenna released Vespera’s grip to climb up the tree and perch upon one of its thick, lower branches. Vespera closed her eyes, sunlight dotting her face. The warmth soothed her.

“Look, Momma,” said Kenna. Vespera opened her eyes. Kenna scrunched her face. Gods, she looked so much like Dorian as she held out a hand and concentrated. From one of the upper branches of the tree floated a pink fruit native to Tatum—a melrosea—until it plopped in Kenna’s hand. “Uncle Abner doesn’t like when I do this.”

Vespera’s stomach churned. She held out her hand and Kenna dropped the melrosea into her palm. “Did he tell you why you can do this?”

“The Force,” said Kenna, dangling her feet from the branch. Her dark hair hung in two braids that draped over her narrow shoulders. “It surrounds us and binds us together.”

“Good,” said Vespera lightly, but her lungs constricted until her breath grew short. Kenna should be learning this at the Jedi Order, not here. And it was Vespera’s fault. “You’re nearly old enough to be a Padawan.”

“What’s that?”

“Remember how I told you that I used to live on Coruscant with the Jedi?”

“Yeah?”

“There are different stages to being a Jedi,” said Vespera. “Padawan is one of those stages.”

“Why doesn’t Uncle Abner like it when I use the Force if he can do it, too?”

Vespera tilted her chin upward, squinting in the sunlight. “It’s painful for us to remember the Jedi.”

“Why?”

“Because we didn’t want to leave.”

“Why did you?”

“Well,” Vespera sighed, bowing her head, “there were things outside of our control.”

“Is that why you’re queen?”

“Mhm,” Vespera smiled up at her daughter. “And if I were still a Jedi, I wouldn’t have you.”

“Oh,” Kenna furrowed her brow. “We couldn’t be Jedi together?”

“I’m afraid not.” Vespera’s lips downturned. “But you shouldn’t hide or ignore the Force, either. I’ll speak to your uncle. Perhaps we are Jedi on a different path.”

Kenna tilted her head and frowned. She resembled her father in appearance, but gods, when she did that, she reminded Vespera of herself. Her heart panged. One day, Vespera would give her daughter a better world to live in.

***

When Vespera returned to Azyrion, guards escorted her to Callan’s quarters. Callan insisted that the king consort’s chambers boast the colors of traditional Azyrionian royalty. So, deep crimson colored the velvet curtains, the bedspread, and the cushions of the sitting room attached to the main bedroom. The rest of the room matched Callan’s aesthetic: dark and cold. The king’s guard escorted Vespera into the sitting room, which shrouded in darkness thanks to the thick crimson curtains. Callan stood by the elegant hearth. A portrait of himself from his coronation day hung above the black stone hearth.

“Please enlighten me,” Callan seethed with his back to Vespera, “why the queen of a neutral planet visited the _heart_ of the Republic?”

“Just because Azyrion is neutral does not mean we do not have business with the Republic.”

“And what business required you to leave for multiple days on such short notice?”

Vespera tensed. She hadn’t given much thought to what she would tell Callan and her council when she returned to Azyrion. There had been a moment in the bunker on Naboo where Vespera figured she wouldn’t leave alive. Still, she’d learned a bit about politics and being a politician. As much as she hated it, she’d become a skilled liar as queen. “I was ensuring the Republic did not suspect Count Dooku’s visit here. I also wanted to find more information on our treaty with the Republic. If we do secede, I want to do so in a way that will not harm our people as much as possible.”

“It took you nearly a week to figure all of this out?”

“Well, Coruscant is much smaller than I thought it’d be,” Vespera joked. “I ran into Senator Amidala, and she wanted to know about our investigation into Valerius and the people who shot her down.”

Callan turned. “And what did you tell her?”

“I told her we’d hit another dead end, but that justice was being served.”

“And this took you nearly a week?” Callan inched toward Vespera with narrowed eyes.

“Well, all of what I told you did,” Vespera replied. “The Senate is disorganized—”

“You’re hiding something,” seethed Callan, now close enough that their chests were pressed against one another.

“I’m not hiding anything.”

Callan gripped Vespera’s upper arms, his fingernails digging into her flesh through her sleeves. Her nearly-healed blaster wound smarted, and Vespera clenched her teeth to keep from flinching. “You are. I feel it.”

Vespera jerked away from Callan’s grasp, and her arm stung. “Alright, fine! Senator Amidala wasn’t entirely convinced and plans to return to Azyrion to investigate further. I didn’t see much of an alternative, so I told her she could.”

“What?” hissed Callan. “Why would you allow such a thing?”

“Why would you allow Count Dooku to visit our planet?” Vespera shot back.

Callan rolled his eyes. “I already told you that I had nothing to do with that.”

“You’re the king consort! You could’ve told the council no! You’re the head councilman, are you not?”

Callan curled his lip. “I actually wasn’t privy to that decision of theirs.”

Vespera folded her arms. “Then they’re deceiving you, too.”

“They wouldn’t dare.”

“Don’t you see? They’re using both of us to further their own power. Callan, if we’re not careful, we could lose our thrones.”

“You mean _your_ throne,” spat Callan. “You’ve made that abundantly clear.”

Bowing her head, Vespera picked at her nails. “We might disagree, and we may not even like each other, but if our council is working to dispose of us, then we should work together.”

“The best way to protect both of us is by providing Azyrion with an heir.”

Teeth clenched, Vespera dropped her hands to her sides. She dug her nails into her palms until it hurt. “I am _not_ a breeder.”

“No, you’re a queen with responsibilities.” Callan flared his nostrils. “To continue your line.”

“You mean start yours?”

Callan snorted. “I’m actually trying to help you, Vespera.”

“By seeking a way to ensure my dynasty, as if you see no hope for me unless I’m dead?” Vespera’s eyes pricked.

“I’m not the one who needs to worry about the council.” Callan leaned closer to Vespera’s ear. “Your only power here is your blood. I suggest that you use it.”

Vespera lifted her chin and swept past her husband. “If that is all, I will retire to my chambers.”

“That is all.”

The click of her heels on the marble floors of the palace echoed across the halls. Whenever Vespera passed, guards stood at attention and maids bowed their heads. A tightness coiled in her chest and snaked up her throat. Her lungs screamed for air, as if the breaths she drew could not quite fill them. Once inside her quarters, Vespera leaned against the door, panting. When she closed her eyes, a tear dampened her lashes and slid down her cheek.

Callan only wanted to ensure that his line continued the royal bloodline. The Stellavis dynasty would die with Vespera. That was the curse of having daughters. He wanted Vespera gone—but only after she produced an heir—as did her council. The council, it seemed, wanted the monarchy eradicated entirely. But why conspire with the Separatists?

The air trembled. Slowly, Vespera opened her eyes. Tan boots standing before her sent a jolt down her spine. She lifted her head to meet Obi-Wan’s gaze. His brow knitted.

“Are you alright?” His voice was surprisingly gentle. 

Vespera wiped away her tear. “I’m fine. What are you doing here?”

“I felt your pain, and I meditated. You seemed upset.”

Rubbing her arm where Callan dug into her still-healing wound, Vespera raised her chin. “So, what? You followed the tether just because I seemed _upset_?”

Obi-Wan lifted a brow. “Is that so hard to believe?”

Gods, Vespera wanted to believe him, but so far, every man she’d encountered lately just wanted something from her. “I assumed you did it because you wanted to pester me about asking the Jedi Council about this bond we have.” 

“You’re especially prickly today.”

Vespera laughed and sank into a chair. “Well, you have no qualms about it, so why don’t you try reading my emotions and figure out why?”

Obi-Wan furrowed his brow. “I apologize if my doing that the other day crossed a line.”

Hugging herself, Vespera sighed. It was difficult to be _prickly_ with someone so genuinely kind. “Truthfully, that doesn’t entirely bother me.”

“So, why did you seem so upset about my reading your emotions? I’m sure this bond works both ways and you can sense mine just as easily.”

“I can, but I try not to.” Obi-Wan lowered his gaze, which tugged at Vespera’s heartstrings. With a sigh, she added, “I’m not used to being read so easily.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes lifted to meet Vespera’s. “I get the sense you hide a lot of yourself.”

“Out of necessity.”

“Is that why you don’t want to go to the Jedi Council? You’re afraid of being read?” Obi-Wan tilted his head.

Vespera’s stomach knotted. “Not exactly. I’m not ready to face them.”

Obi-Wan frowned. His confusion muddled Vespera’s own emotions. “You left on amicable terms. You’re remembered fondly there—”

“Don’t,” Vespera said thickly. She closed her eyes and gulped, her fingers digging into the edges of her seat. “It’s painful for me. You’re free to question them about this bond all you like, but please, don’t make me go with you.”

Obi-Wan’s desire to question further salted the tip of Vespera’s tongue. But he seemed to swallow it, dipping his head respectfully instead. “As you wish.”

His striking blue eyes crinkled at the corners with the beginnings of a smile. He was as handsome as he had been as a Padawan—maybe even more so, with his beard—and still just as kind. And _charming_. The Force nudged her again—to trust Obi-Wan, that this was a _friend_ —but Vespera tensed. Part of her still churned and knotted with unease at the thought that it was her fault that this Force bond formed in the first place—she’d always had a proclivity for forming strong bonds—and felt that she should be ashamed of it. As if she did something wrong, if this was her doing in the first place. She could create strong bonds, but she had never done anything like _this_. Another part of her didn’t want to solely rely on the Force. If she wanted to trust Obi-Wan, or vice versa, they each needed to earn that trust.

“If you’ll excuse me, I need to prepare for Senator Amidala’s arrival.” Vespera stood and smoothed out the crinkles of her dress.

Obi-Wan stroked his beard. “What business does she have on Azyrion?”

“Oh, just to topple patriarchal regimes,” Vespera mused.

“Naturally.” Obi-Wan sounded just as amused.

Vespera held his gaze, taking a moment to admire the way his smile hid behind his beard and brightened his eyes. “Thank you for checking on me.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes softened. “Of course.” He bowed his head. “Until next time, your majesty.”

“Until next time,” Vespera returned, smiling slightly. Obi-Wan disappeared.

***

_Their training sabers clashed with a hot buzz. Obi-Wan’s Padawan braid whipped as he twirled to slash at Vespera again, but she brought up her double-bladed training saber up to block. Her arms vibrated with the force of Obi-Wan’s blow. He grinned._

_“Tired, Stellavis? Ready to forfeit?”_

_“In your dreams, Kenobi,” Vespera shot back. She twirled and delivered several fast-paced blows. With a double-bladed saber, Vespera’s style depended on fast, and somewhat aggressive, attacks. However, whenever Obi-Wan backtracked a little, Vespera made sweeping, diagonal attacks, starting up from the right and then coming down on the left. She needed to keep Obi-Wan fighting frantically and away from her back. Her strategy seemed to work, until Obi-Wan flipped over her, kicked her in the back, and pulled her training saber from her hands. He leveled his training saber toward her as she rolled to face him._

_“Ready to forfeit now?” His chest heaved and sweat sheened his forehead. Vespera kicked his feet out from under him and pinned her knee to his chest._

_“Never, Kenobi.”_

_Obi-Wan grinned. Their noses almost touched, and Vespera’s Padawan braid dangled by Obi-Wan’s face. The smile curving across Vespera’s lips faltered. She was very close to Obi-Wan, very warm, and his eyes were **very** blue. She jumped off of him and held out a hand to help him to his feet. He accepted her hand, and stood with his chest close to Vespera’s. She backtracked, her face heating. _

_She was his **friend**. Nothing more. _

***

To greet Senator Padme Amidala, Vespera wore a golden silk gown with a high collar. The golden colors of friendship, warmth, and sunlight. Beside her, Callan wore his usual dark and crimson ensemble. Mistrust, grief, and royalty. He always needed to remind others of his royal status. Padme’s Nubian cruiser reflected Azyrion’s blue sky with such brilliance that it nearly seemed invisible.

“I don’t like this,” Callan gritted out, “inviting a Republic Senator here to _investigate_ —”

“Yes, you’ve mentioned this once or twice,” Vespera replied coolly. “Need I remind you that we must maintain amicable relations with the Republic?”

“No, I don’t need any more reminders, thank you.” Callan’s lip curled.

The loading ramp lowered and Padme descended, dressed in an ankle-length purple gown. With a brownish-red headpiece banding the top of her head that secured Padme’s hair in twists by her ears, before descending into a long braid down her back, the Nubian Senator looked far less formal than usual. Since Naboo and Azyrion shared some similarities, Vespera got the hint: Padme advocated for friendship between their worlds through her outfit choice, too.

“Your majesties,” Padme greeted, bowing her head with a demure smile.

“Senator Amidala,” Vespera returned, “it is good to see you again.”

“Thank you for allowing me this opportunity to continue the investigation,” Padme said.

Callan snorted under his breath. “It is strange that a senator is doing her own investigating.”

“Senator Amidala and I thought it best that we keep the investigation between us instead of getting Senate Bureau of Intelligence involved,” said Vespera.

“Though, depending on where our investigation leads us, we may have to,” said Padme. She offered an apologetic smile. “I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“Allow me to show you to your quarters,” Vespera said lightly. “You must be exhausted.”

With a dip of her head to Callan, Vespera led Padme down a corridor, up a set of stairs, and to Vespera’s own quarters. Padme lifted a brow, taking a seat on one of the sofas. Slipping into the corridor, Vespera approached her two guards—well, really, they were Callan’s guards assigned to her—and requested that they bring Padme Amidala’s things to the guest chambers in the west wing. The two guards bowed their heads and marched off, while Vespera approached one of the maids.

“Gianna, do you mind bringing Senator Amidala and I some tea?”

The maid dipped her head. “Of course not, your majesty.”

“Thank you.” Vespera picked at her nails as Gianna scurried off. Something about ordering around maids never sat completely right with Vespera. It seemed being a Jedi—a servant of the people—never really left her after all. After a moment, she returned to the sitting area and sat across from Padme.

“This seems a little nice to be guest quarters,” said Padme.

“That’s because we’re in my quarters,” Vespera replied. “We won’t be overheard in here.”

“Nice thinking.”

“I set up a meeting with my allies tonight, but for now, we can catch up,” Vespera said. Gianna entered with a tea tray. “Thank you, Gianna.”

“Of course, your majesty,” said Gianna, bowing slightly. She exited the room while Vespera and Padme sipped at their tea.

“Can I ask you something, Vespera?” Padme’s brow crinkled and she lowered her teacup toward her lap.

“Yes.”

“Your marriage with Callan was arranged, right?”

“By my parents,” Vespera confirmed. “Before they died, they wanted me to have a strong reign. Callan’s parents at the time were vying for the throne. They had no blood claim to it, but they had many supporters who believed that with my sister’s death, it was time for a change. My parents and Callan’s decided that they should form an alliance and secure what they both wanted.”

“But you didn’t marry until after your parents died,” said Padme, her face still crumpled with a frown.

“I… resisted the idea of a political marriage,” Vespera admitted. “But with the war with Raria, I needed political allies. I thought that by marrying Callan, and fulfilling my parents’ wishes, I would secure that.”

“But it didn’t?”

“No,” Vespera sighed. “It came with a council with real power instead of just advisors.”

“I thought all queens had a council?” Padme placed her teacup on its saucer with a soft clatter.

“They do. But the council is typically meant to be a group of advisors. Mine is a bit more powerful.”

“How’d that happen?”

“I was naïve and trusting,” Vespera said heavily. She sipped from her tea to avoid continuing, but Padme continued to stare; her brow curved in askance and concern. With a small sigh, Vespera set her teacup on the table in between the two sofas. “Our marriage contract came with clauses. I needed the backing of powerful nobles that Callan had working relationships with. There was a war on the horizon, and my people were still learning to accept me as queen. Callan wanted to be head of the council, and I foolishly granted it to him. Gradually, he granted the council more and more powers, all under the guise of ‘emergency’ thanks to the war. I tied the noose around my neck by doing that.”

Padme lowered her head. “I’m sorry, Vespera.”

“For what? I’m the idiot who believed a Jedi could ever be a queen.”

“You’re not an idiot,” said Padme. “Naïve, maybe, but an idiot? No. You’re doing your best.”

Vespera laughed dryly. “I’m afraid my best isn’t enough.”

“Well, that’s why I’m here. What’s our first step?”

“First, we need to find all records on past councils and their restrictions, as well as my current council. If there’s a loophole somewhere, that would give us a head start.”

“Okay. Where would we find that?”

“Same place where Anakin snooped last time,” Vespera said with a small smirk, “the library.”

***

Perhaps wishful thinking blinded Vespera, or perhaps she truly was a fool. All the records that could possibly help her did not exist anymore. In fact, most of the information on queen’s councils and advisors had been wiped from the archives. The only bit of information that remained included Queen Amaia’s reign, the mad queen who used the Force to instill fear in the people. 

“Well, at least we know one thing,” said Padme after an hour of searching, “they definitely don’t want you finding any loopholes. They’re hiding something.”

Vespera rubbed her brow. “But there’s no _proof_.”

“They have to have documents somewhere,” Padme insisted. She pursed her lips for a moment.

“What is it?”

“Something you said about your marriage contract,” Padme muttered. “Where would _that_ be?”

“Callan’s study,” Vespera replied with a narrow of her eyes. “But he spends a _lot_ of time in there.”

“Well, if we can get him out—”

“He usually keeps it either guarded or locked, though.”

“Is there any way in?” Padme sounded desperate.

“Yes, but it’s blocked off,” said Vespera.

“Blocked off?”

Vespera stood. “Come on.”

She led the way to the back of the library, to a curved selection of shelves and books. Sandwiching her fingers in the small space where the shelf ended and the wall began, Vespera pulled a hidden latch. A chunk of the shelf unhinged and sung inward like a door. Behind the shelf was a stone staircase leading downward.

“Obi-Wan mentioned a secret passage,” Padme breathed as Vespera stepped inside the opening. Padme followed and Vespera shut the shelf door, plunging them into darkness.

“There’s a rail on the right wall,” Vespera instructed. They descended the stairs. Slowly adjusting to the darkness, Vespera’s eyes identified the doorway leading into the tunnels underneath the palace. The deeper underground they went, the more the Force hummed with energy. Something about this place crackled with the Force’s energy. Their passage merged with other passages, until they walked through a wide tunnel with lanterns hanging from the ceiling. Each lantern flickered on as they furthered their descent. “There are passages all over the palace. In case of an emergency, the people inside need to be able to get out easily. All of the important rooms have one, and some of the non-essential ones do, too. They all lead down here.”

The passage yawned into a cavern. White pillars bore the weight of the ceiling, their adornments worn from age. Knee-deep water flooded the space below. On their side of the caver, different tunnel openings spanned the wall. Across the water were additional openings. Automatic lanterns flickered on, casting a dim glow in the cavern.

“Wow,” Padme exhaled. “This is incredible.”

“If we take that tunnel,” Vespera gestured to an opening three tunnels to their right, “it’ll lead back to the side of the palace where Callan’s study is.”

Vespera led the way along the stone walkway, trying to ignore the way her hair stood on end as the Force’s energy called to her. The gaping, dark tunnel openings to her right resembled mouths. Vespera shivered.

“This place is kind of creepy,” Padme muttered.

“This area is far older than the palace itself,” Vespera replied. “I believe it was my great-grandfather who discovered it and had the passageways built in the palace.”

“I wonder what this was used for,” Padme said, her voice echoing off the pillars. The vast silence seemed to thrum with a heartbeat. Obi-Wan’s Force signature flickered around Vespera, and his presence nudged hers gently. Gritting her teeth, Vespera blocked him out. Now was not the time.

Vespera and Padme entered the tunnel and climbed until the tunnel broke off into different passages. Vespera picked the middle right one and they ascended further. But, about halfway to their destination, a pile of rocks from an apparent cave-in blocked their path. Padme folded her arms.

“Well, it doesn’t look like the cave depends on these rocks for support,” she said. “I think we can safely move them without risking another collision or cave-in.”

“Move them?” Vespera lifted a brow.

Padme cocked her head to the side. “You used to be a Jedi. You can move the rocks.”

A knot twisted Vespera’s stomach and her hands trembled. She hugged herself. “I haven’t done something like that in a long time.”

Placing her hand on Vespera’s arm, Padme’s brow curved in concern. “Vespera, it might be the only way to find out what your council’s really up to.”

With a sigh, the tension in Vespera’s shoulders collapsed. She held out her hands toward the rocks and closed her eyes. Breathing in, the Force filled her veins. She felt illuminated and alive as she allowed her walls to crumble, and allowed herself to fully connect with the Force’s energy. The rocks levitated and spread around Vespera and Padme until none blocked the path. Vespera placed the rocks gently on the ground, lining both walls in neat rows.

Opening her eyes, Vespera frowned. No damage from the tunnel marred the ceiling. This cave-in wasn’t a real cave-in. The rocks had been placed to block the path. Anger flared in Vespera’s chest. Callan had wanted to keep people out of his study.

Padme beamed. “You did it!”

Vespera’s lips twitched, but she did not return Padme’s smile fully. Her hands still trembled, and the Force still flooded through her, strong and vibrant. Her walls usually kept it subdued or hazy, but now, it thrummed in her like a heartbeat more powerful than her own. She led the way further through the passage to make sure the doorway wasn’t locked, too. Scrunching her nose, Vespera reached out with the Force, past the doorway and into the room, sensing for Callan’s presence. His study was empty, though the presence of two guards by the front door flared. Vespera checked the lock and slid the door open. A panel slid open, revealing Callan’s empty study. Vespera and Padme peeked inside.

Callan decorated his study similarly to his quarters, except his study bore some of the adornments from kings’ past. The walls were white, as were the columns in the corners of the room. A silver chandelier hung from the center of the ceiling. Crimson curtains framed the floor-to-ceiling windows. A matching crimson rug sat in the center of the room. Books and shelves lined the wall across from Vespera and Padme’s hiding spot. Callan’s desk sat to their left, at the end of the room facing the double doors that led outside of the study.

“Anything Callan has is likely to be at his desk,” Vespera breathed. She slipped out of the passage and, remaining in a crouch, snuck over to the desk. Padme slinked right behind her. Lying on top of the desk sat a datapad. Vespera tried to open the thick drawers, but they were locked. “Oh, he is so paranoid.”

“Here,” Padme said, withdrawing a pin from her hair. She fiddled with the locks, and after a few moments, they clicked open.

Vespera grinned. “I knew I liked you for a reason.”

Padme returned Vespera’s mirth, and then widened her eyes. “He uses _paper_ files?”

Vespera thumbed through some of the labels: _Council_ , _Raria Prison Reform_ , _D.H.K._ , and _V.N.S_. “Lucky for us he’s organized.”

“Do you have any guesses at which one will be most helpful?” Padme queried.

But Vespera stopped at the one labeled _D.H.K_. Dorian Hansol Kang. Dorian. Why would Callan have a file on Dorian?

Before Vespera could reach for the file, the Force flared with a sense of danger. Callan was returning to his study. Vespera slammed the drawer shut. “We have to go.”

Jumping to their feet, Vespera and Padme slipped back into the secret passage and shut the door. Vespera did not stop moving quickly until they were back in the main cavern. The Force vibrated with energy once more, and Obi-Wan’s presence lingered in the corner of Vespera’s eye. She felt his curiosity, but shut him out once more.

“Vespera? What is it?” Padme panted as Vespera leaned against the cavern wall.

“Callan was coming back,” Vespera replied.

“I figured, but you saw something back there. What was it?”

Tensing, Vespera folded her arms. “Nothing. I’m guessing the file we need is V.N.S. Those are my initials.”

“What about the datapad? It needs a password.”

“I’m afraid I won’t be much help with that. I don’t know what Callan would choose. We’d need an astromech to help us break in.”

“Anything else?”

“The one labeled Council, and…” Vespera dragged her teeth across her lip. “And D.H.K.”

“So, how are we going to do this?”

“I’ll keep Callan and the council distracted somehow,” said Vespera. “You’ll sneak in and copy the information. I’ll make sure no guards bother you, too.”

“Are you sure you don’t have any guesses as to what the password might be?” Padme pressed. “There could be vital information on it.”

Vespera frowned. Callan was egotistical, paranoid, and cared more about his title as king than anything else.

No. That was what Vespera _perceived_ of him, because that was all Callan showed her. But there had been a time where Callan revealed a vulnerability, one that he tried to hide but never quite managed to succeed.

“Try ‘Zerlina,’” Vespera muttered. She sensed Padme’s curiosity, but did not elaborate. Instead, she led Padme toward the flooded floor of the cavern. “We need to meet with my allies, and this is the quickest way. I hope that dress isn’t too important to you.”

“I don’t mind,” said Padme. Vespera jumped into the water, and Padme followed with a gentle splash. They waded through the water, passing many of the tunnel openings on either side. One opening sat with its mouth halfway in the water.

“That one opens up to one of the canals,” said Vespera, gesturing toward it.

“So, who are your allies, exactly?”

“Mostly normal people,” Vespera replied. “We can only afford to meet a couple at a time. If all of us met at the same time, it would raise suspicions. We’ll be meeting Dione of Avellanos, Osheen of Cogitat, Hannelore of Raria—”

“Raria? Isn’t that the place where you said you have fewer friends?”

“I said have very few friends, I didn’t say I had none,” Vespera smirked.

“Oh, of course,” said Padme, sounding abashed. “Continue.”

“We’ll also be meeting my uncle, Abner.”

“Your uncle?”

Vespera’s stomach twisted. “Yes.”

“Is he your father’s brother, or your mother’s?”

“Father’s.”

“Then wouldn’t he be king?”

“No one really knows he exists,” said Vespera. “He was a Jedi, too.”

Padme stopped. “ _What_?”

“He left the Order when I did,” said Vespera. “He didn’t want me to be alone, and thought I would need a guide.”

“Where is he?”

“He lives on Tatum.”

“But then… That leaves you alone, doesn’t it?”

The water grew shallower as the ground inclined. The cavern was a massive bowl, and they had reached the edge. Tunnel openings lined it. Vespera slowed to a stop before the tunnel they needed to enter, waiting for Padme to catch up.

“For a necessary reason,” Vespera said. She relaxed when Padme did not press further, though the Nubian senator’s curiosity spiked around her like static-stricken hair. Vespera led the way through the tunnel, which opened up onto the beach. The palace perched upon the cliff behind them. “This is where we’ll meet them later tonight.”

Padme’s brow crinkled. “Why are we here now?”

“If anyone asks where we’ve been, we’ve been at the beach, playing in the water. We’ve got the water stains to prove it.” Vespera gestured to her wet dress.

Padme glanced down at herself. Then, she tugged some of her hair free of its braid. “You should make your hair look more windswept, too.”

“Good idea.” Vespera messed with her hair until it looked as if she’d been running around. Padme took her shoes off and dug her toes into the sand, smiling at the horizon. Vespera followed suit, but closed her eyes as the sun warmed her face. Wind caressed her hair with soft fingers.

“Can I ask you something?”

Vespera withdrew from her meditative state. “Of course.”

“Were you and Obi-Wan friends during your time at the Order?”

Immediately, Vespera’s stomach curled with that familiar tension whenever someone mentioned the Jedi. No one was around, so she forced herself to relax a little. “Yes. Why?”

“The two of you seemed to share a history,” said Padme, though her tone came out an octave higher than usual.

Lifting a brow, Vespera turned to Padme. “What do you mean, ‘a _history’_?”

“Oh, you know,” said Padme, fervently avoiding Vespera’s gaze, “I’ve picked up on a little bit of tension between you two. As if things ended badly, or… I don’t know.”

Vespera bowed her head. “I haven’t been the kindest to Obi-Wan, have I?”

“What? That’s not what I meant—”

“I’ve been harsh to him,” said Vespera, flexing her toes as a wave washed the sand between them. The sand beneath her feet slipped back with the wave. “Speaking of the Jedi—and being around them—is not easy for me.”

“It must be difficult,” said Padme. “I didn’t even realize it was possible to leave the Jedi Order.”

A tremendous wave of sadness swept off of Padme. Vespera’s heart clenched, and she furrowed her brow. Whatever Padme carried, it felt as heavy as the burden upon Vespera’s shoulders. Vespera placed a hand on Padme’s arm.

“Forgive me for prying,” Padme said. “I’ve never met anyone who left, and I thought…”

Lips quirking, Vespera said, “That maybe I left for other reasons?”

Padme looked away. “It was silly to ask.”

“It wasn’t. I developed a crush on Obi-Wan when we were Padawans,” Vespera admitted. Padme’s eyes crinkled at the corners. Vespera returned the smile as she turned back toward the horizon. “He never returned my feelings, of course. And it was just a silly infatuation. A rebound, if you will.”

“Rebound?”

“Being a Jedi wasn’t always easy.” Vespera kicked a seashell over. “I fell in love with someone I was protecting.”

“Who?”

“A Twi’lek girl named Hirani,” said Vespera, smiling sadly. “I wasn’t good at hiding it, and eventually, Master Plo figured out what was going on. He was understanding, and told me it was natural, but that I had a duty to the Order. I needed to make a choice. In the end, I chose the Order over Hirani.”

Padme lowered her head. “How’d you make that choice?”

“I think I might’ve rationalized it as young love, and therefore not as serious. Besides, I loved being a Jedi, and they were my family. In the end, my love for them was stronger than my love for Hirani. It didn’t make leaving her any less painful, though.” Vespera’s voice caught, and she swallowed the lump in her throat.

A whorl of emotions seeped off of Padme: sorrow, frustration, anxiety, loneliness, and guilt. Furrowing her brow, Vespera reached out with the Force and sent a wave of comfort her friend’s way. Padme lifted her chin.

“Are you doing that?”

“Sorry,” said Vespera, the corners of her mouth twitching, “I know not many appreciate being manipulated by the Force.”

Padme frowned. “Ana—I mean, I was told once that Jedi mind tricks only work on the weak-minded.”

“Emotions are different than the mind,” said Vespera. “I’ve actually never been that great at mind tricks. My abilities were usually more empathetic in nature.”

“I thought all Jedi had the same abilities?”

“The same basic ones, but just as in anything, some Jedi are more talented in areas than others.”

Padme remained quiet for several seconds. “Thank you for telling me all of this, Vespera.”

“To be honest, I think I needed to,” Vespera managed a half-smile. “I haven’t talked about this with anyone… Well, in a very long time. I haven’t really told anyone about Hirani, and I’ve never told anyone about my crush on Obi-Wan. But that was years ago, so keep that to yourself, will you?”

“Don’t worry. I’m good at keeping secrets.”

***

Later that night, Vespera and Padme returned to the beach. Vespera hugged Abner. He patted her back and chuckled softly.

“Hello to you too, child,” he greeted. “Don’t worry about Kenna; she’s being watched over by Jenaro.”

Vespera relaxed. “Thank you.” She turned to Dione, Hannelore, and Osheen. “And thank you all for coming. You’ve taken a great risk in meeting me here.”

Dione, a beautiful woman with dark hair and dark eyes, bowed her head. “We are honored to be of service to Azyrion.”

“This is Senator Amidala,” Vespera stepped aside to allow Padme room to speak. “She’s going to educate us so that we may help educate our people. The best way to cripple the council’s power is to filter power to the people. If we can rally enough people demanding change, we can stop the council’s tyranny.”

Padme smiled at Dione, Hannelore, and Osheen. “It is a pleasure to meet you all.”

For the next hour, Padme discussed Nubian politics and democratic systems. She made sure that they understood enough to be able to educate other people before allowing Vespera to take over the meeting once more.

Osheen folded his strong arms and peered down at Vespera. “So, what exactly is our plan?”

“First, we need to educate people in order to change the system,” said Vespera.

“Changing the system will cause an uproar,” said Dione.

“Not to mention a power vacuum,” added Hannelore.

“Not if there are political leaders among the people,” said Vespera. But her allies wore mirrored expressions of doubt. She sighed. “The council wants to drag us into a war. They want to join the Separatists.”

“That will close off trade routes that are vital to our system,” said Osheen. “People could starve!”

“And that would break a treaty,” muttered Dione.

“Yes,” Vespera replied. “This is not an ideal situation. I promise you; I will not abandon my people. I may have to abdicate my throne, but I will not abandon any of you. That council wants to control me and Azyrion for their own political and monetary gain, and I cannot let that happen. Azyrion will not fall to traitors.”

Osheen smirked and placed a hand over his heart. “You are fondly remembered among the people in Cogitat. The woman-king who fought for the North Shore will always be honored.”

Vespera placed a hand over Osheen’s. “You fought by my side that day. Fight with me now.”

Hannelore bright eyes caught the moonlight as she stood from her crouch. “The Force has guided you this far. I will trust it and you.”

Dione dipped her head. “You can count on me.”

“Thank you,” said Vespera, touching each of her allies lightly. “Thank you all for your courage and loyalty.”

Abner tilted his head. “So, what now?”

“Now,” Vespera huffed, turning to share a knowing glance with Padme, “we stir some trouble with the council.”

***

Vespera waited until the next morning to call a meeting with her council after she’d directed Padme to the correct tunnel. Her council took their seats, some of them wearing rather smug expressions. Ignoring the tightness coiling in her chest, Vespera stood to address her council. “I want reports on my cities. There is unrest stirring amongst the people.”

Her council members exchanged glances. Gan leaned forward; his eyes narrowed. “You want them _now_?”

“Of course not,” Vespera said sharply. “You haven’t had time to observe.”

“That would require us to return to our home cities,” said Deion.

“For a time, yes,” said Vespera. Her lips twisted with a cold smirk. “Why, gentlemen, it seems you are unwilling to return to your home cities. Is this out of fear of the people, or an unwillingness to leave the palace?”

“With respect, your majesty, the people of Leviglade are none too pleased with the crown as of late,” said Soren.

“And why is that?”

“To pay for the repairs caused by the Republic’s damage, we raised taxes there.”

“You raised taxes in Leviglade,” Vespera said dully. The council nodded. Vespera’s heart plummeted into the pit of her stomach. “ _Why_ , in the name of the gods, would you choose to raise taxes in _Leviglade_? They’re the poorest city and can’t possibly afford an increase!”

The council shifted. Callan cleared his throat. He remained seated, staring up at Vespera with his cold eyes. “The other cities have already suffered a tax increase. Azolos’s taxes pay for our security measures, while the others are reinforcing the Rarian prison refortification.”

Vespera curled her fingers into her palms until her nails dug crescents. Obi-Wan’s presence nudged hers through the Force. With a clench of her teeth, she shut him out with a wall as strong as a Venator’s hull.

“Count Dooku promised that the Separatists would provide for our planet,” said Torin.

Jiang straightened. “Yes, he assured us that were we to join the Separatist cause, our planet would be provided with protection so we wouldn’t have to tax our own people to protect us from the war.”

“If we join the Separatists, we would be joining the war regardless,” snapped Vespera. “We would be breaking a century-old treaty with the Republic, and our treaty with the Council of Neutral Systems.”

“The Republic has already shown their blatant disregard of our treaty,” scoffed Cathal. “They came here and had my son arrested.”

“Your son shot their ship down,” argued Vespera. “They were not invading, they were here peacefully—”

“Everywhere the Jedi go, peace does not follow!” A shrill silence met Cathal’s words. He breathed heavily for a moment. “They swing their laser-swords on the frontlines of this war, all under the guise of _peacekeeping_.” Cathal spat the last word.

“Someone attempted to kill Senator Amidala, and their investigation led them here. Your son did not help the matter by shooting their _kriffing_ ship down!” The chandelier above trembled slightly with Vespera’s yell.

“Your majesty, you shouldn’t curse,” said Gan.

Vespera bared her teeth. “And all of _you_ shouldn’t be causing the suffering of our people, yet here you are, raising taxes on Leviglade and our other cities without my input. You may be my council, but I am your queen. I have Stellavis blood in my veins. I am the protector of Azyrion, and you should be helping me do so. But you are making my job harder.” 

Jiang leaned forward. “Your majesty, you seem upset. Perhaps you should lie down. We can take a recess on this meeting.”

“ _No_ ,” Vespera snarled. Obi-Wan’s presence pushed on her walls, his askance bending the iron of her will. Digging her fingers deeper into her palms, Vespera forced him out again. “I want full reports on the taxes, now.”

Soren chuckled. “Your majesty, you needn’t worry your pretty head about matters such as these.”

“It was not a _request_ ,” Vespera gritted out. “And I want to see what bills you’ve been working on for the past few months.”

Everyone looked to Callan, who shrugged. “The queen has every right to request these.”

With a grumble, the council pulled up their datapads to show Vespera their ideas. She held her hands in her lap, flexing her fingers only to curl them back to her palms. Pain smarted in the crescents carved by her fingernails. Obi-Wan’s presence lingered, but Vespera managed to keep him out. She did not want him to see her anger, or her humiliation. Her council believed they could get away with raising taxes behind her back. The longer she sat in the meeting, the more her chest burned with fury.

“Before we adjourn this meeting, there is a matter that needs to be discussed,” said Callan once the council members finished their reports on their respective cities. “There have been reports of Force-users on this planet.”

A chill gripped Vespera’s heart and feathered down her back. “Where?”

“Arcanym and Aeterna,” said Callan. He stood and faced the council. “As we are all aware, maleficas are forbidden on Azyrion.”

“Are we really going to adhere to an ancient ruling because of one queen?” Vespera challenged.

The council and Callan scowled at her. Callan cleared his throat. “That one queen nearly caused the complete genocide of Tatum, and allowed the rise of maleficas until she thought they would overpower her. That war nearly destroyed Azyrion.”

“Force-wielders are not inherently evil,” Vespera said. “What do you propose we do with them?”

“Execute them,” said Cathal.

“We are not executing them,” said Vespera firmly.

“Send them to the Jedi,” shrugged Jiang.

“So that they can return with a vengeance? No!”

Vespera’s brow puckered as her council broke out into an argument. Her shoulders slumped. It seemed that no matter what she did, her council wanted to send Azyrion back to the stone age.

“I say we exile them,” said Callan. “Our pacifist queen will be happy with that, right?”

Vespera clenched her teeth for a moment. “No. We will observe them. If they prove a threat, then we will take action.” 

“So you would have us wait for the apocalypse instead of fight it?” sneered Torin.

Vespera glowered at him. “That’s a little drastic, don’t you think? You men are all so hysterical over this. Let’s take a recess from this issue and come back to it with cooler heads, yes?”

With that, Vespera stood and adjourned the meeting. She sent a quick message to Padme to get out of Callan’s study and hurried to a secret passage, still fuming from the meeting.

***

When Vespera entered the cavern, the Force hummed in her veins more powerfully than before. Obi-Wan’s presence flickered into view.

“You know, you can’t shut me out forever,” he said, folding his arms.

“I can try,” Vespera snapped. She blocked him out, and his figure vanished. She found Padme in the tunnel that led to Callan’s study. Vespera shakily put the rocks back to block the path.

“Don’t want to leave a trail behind, smart,” Padme approved. “What’s wrong? What happened with your council?”

“They’re going to turn the people against me,” Vespera muttered. “Raising taxes unfairly on the working class, alleviating taxes on the wealthy, wanting to _execute_ Force-users—”

“ _What_?”

“I stopped them,” Vespera replied wearily, “but not for long. I’ve only bought time. They don’t think I’m smart enough to understand what’s happening to the taxes, but I think they’re embezzling money from the crown, too.”

“Well, I scanned and copied just about every file I could,” said Padme. “Maybe there’ll be something in there.”

They hurried to the beach, where Padme withdrew her datapad with Callan’s scanned documents saved on it. They picked Vespera’s file first and found their marriage contract. Vespera and Padme read through it in silence. Most of it was fairly standard and nothing out of the ordinary. Then, Vespera’s heart plummeted at a page entitled _Crown Matrimonial_.

_I_ _n the event of the_ _Q_ _ueen’s death (gods rest her soul), and in the absence of a male heir, the_ _K_ _ing (gods save him) shall receive the full authority of the_ _C_ _rown, and the line of succession shall shift from_ _S_ _tellavis to_ _A_ _cheron._

_Signed:_ _V_ _espera_ _N_ _uelle_ _S_ _tellavis,_ _Q_ _ueen of_ _A_ _zyrion_

Heart hammering in her throat, Vespera read through the entire Crown Matrimonial three times. Not only did it allow Callan full authority of the crown, it also allowed him to wed another and pass to descendants he had. If Vespera were to die unexpectedly without a male heir, the throne would not go to her uncle, or Lorelei, or even any daughters she might have with Callan. Nausea curled in her stomach. She swallowed a mouthful of bile. Her hands trembled.

“Vespera?”

“I didn’t sign this,” Vespera stated.

“But your signature—”

“I know, but I didn’t sign this.”

“Maybe you just don’t remember—”

“Padme, I’m telling you, I never signed this. This is forged. It looks exactly like my handwriting, but I swear to you, I _never_ signed this.” Vespera’s eyes smarted with tears. She paced the beach, breathing heavily. The Force flared around her. If she wanted to, she could force the waves back or shove a boulder into the air. She could keep a ship from launching. Instead, she dug her fingernails into her palms again. “That gives them a reason to kill me, Padme. If Callan wants to get rid of me, all he needs is a tragic accident and then he will be sovereign king! No wonder he isn’t worried about the power-hungry council! That Crown Matrimonial grants him the right to dissolve them completely and rule Azyrion however he sees fit!”

“Vespera? You might want to calm down,” said Padme, looking around with wide eyes.

Seashells and small rocks levitated around Vespera. With a gasp, she let the fall to the ground. She sat down heavily. “I’m a fool. I was naïve when I entered the marriage with Callan. It was the act of a desperate, new queen. Now I’m paying the price. My _people_ will pay the price.”

Padme placed her hands upon Vespera’s shoulders. “You were a Jedi, not a politician. There was no way you could’ve known about this.”

Vespera shook her head. “I should’ve known better. I should’ve trusted the Force, but I didn’t. I knew something felt wrong before I married Callan, but I… I’ve been a fool to ever think I could be a queen.”

“You’re not a fool. Perhaps you were naïve, but I can tell you that I’ve made plenty of mistakes. We live and we learn. So, let’s find a way to fix this.”

“How?”

“Let me return to Coruscant with this,” said Padme, lifting the datapad. “I have a friend who could help me go through them, and maybe we could find a way to prove that your signature is forged.”

Vespera frowned. “What friend?”

“Another senator,” said Padme. “Bail Organa. He’s the best speaker, and a bit of a mentor to me. He can help.”

“I don’t know about involving another senator.”

“How about you come to Coruscant with me to meet him? You’d like him.”

“I can’t just go to Coruscant,” Vespera said. “Not with you, at least.”

“Give it a few days. And Vespera, if you’re in danger, maybe you should go to the Jedi.”

“No. I’m not going to the Jedi for this.”

“Do they think of ill of you for leaving?” Padme frowned.

“I don’t think so,” Vespera replied. “But we don’t know that my life is in danger just yet.”

Padme sighed and lowered her gaze. “You’re right, but I think the sooner we look through this, we’ll know for sure. I’ll return to Coruscant immediately.”

“I’ll be right behind you.”

***

After Padme left for Coruscant, things on Azyrion seemed eerily quiet for just a few days. But Vespera never relaxed. She sensed the darkness brewing in her own palace, like storm clouds rumbling with thunder in the distance. Any moment, the sky would break open with a torrent. Vespera prayed that she could withstand it.

On the third day, it almost seemed as if the sky really had broken open. A few Separatist ships landed on Azyrionian soil, and droids poured out of the ships. A bald woman with tattoos exited the ship. She was tall and very thin, with brilliant blue eyes. Two curved lightsabers crisscrossed on the back of her belt.

“King Callan and Queen Vespera,” said the woman, “I am Asajj Ventress. I am here on behalf of Count Dooku, who wished to provide a demonstration for you. These droids are here to demonstrate the Separatists’ ability to protect your system.”

Vespera narrowed her eyes. “I wasn’t aware that we’d be given such a _generous_ demonstration of power.”

Ventress’s eyes flicked over Vespera, and her dark lips curved with a smile. “Count Dooku is most interested in an alliance, as are many on your own planet, your majesty.”

“And is this a permanent or temporary demonstration?” Vespera queried.

Ventress placed a slender hand over her chest. “Oh, we would not want to overstay our welcome, of course.”

“Vespera, may I speak with you?” said Callan coolly. He and Vespera stepped out of earshot of Ventress. Then, he grabbed Vespera roughly by the arms. “You need to go to Coruscant.”

“Why?” Vespera hissed. “So you can let the Separatists take over while I’m gone?”

“No,” said Callan. “We need the Republic. I didn’t invite them here. Someone on the council did.”

Vespera narrowed her eyes. “I don’t trust you.”

Callan snorted. “And I don’t trust you. But you were right: The council wants to get rid of us both. Go to Coruscant and appeal for aid. The Separatists have invaded our planet.”

“That will lead to a Republic invasion,” Vespera said, her brow puckering.

“Yes. But you and I will survive and keep our crowns.”

Vespera reached with the Force. Normally, Callan’s signature flickered with a muddled haze—oily and greasy with self-preservation—but a hazy dust of light peeked through the darkness around him. Vespera still did not trust Callan, but she trusted his instinct to save himself. He did not invite the Separatists here. Someone on their council—if not all the members—wanted to drag Azyrion into a war and see its king and queen dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooo! Really long chapter, guys! I’ve been thinking about starting a tumblr for this story, with like aesthetics, face-claims, music, etc. What do you think? Idk if anyone would be interested.
> 
> I really enjoyed writing this chapter. I’m loving the friendship bw Padme and Vespera, and the (very slowly) blossoming relationship bw Vespera and Obi-Wan.
> 
> What was your favorite part? Let me know by leaving a comment! 


	10. Chapter Nine

The screams of innocent civilians overpowered the normal hum of Coruscant. The Zillo Beast’s escape from the lab had already caused the deaths of many people, and resulted in the destruction of a few buildings. The Jedi Council had dispatched Obi-Wan and Master Windu to oversee the delivery of tanks to a predicted destination of the Zillo Beast as it clambered its way over buildings. Obi-Wan’s stomach swooped as the shuttle cruiser banked to the left. Master Windu appeared as steadfast as ever; he held up a holotransmitter as Master Yoda’s hologram flickered into view.

“Desperately needed, the tanks are,” said Yoda.

“We’re almost at the loading dock, Master Yoda,” said Windu.

“Dire the situation has become,” said Yoda, shaking his head. “Before more lives are lost, quickly we must act.”

Obi-Wan dipped his head. The transmission ended, and the shuttle circled over the loading dock, where other ships picked up tanks and carried them off. In the back of his mind, the tether that bounded him to Vespera through the Force tugged. He pinched his brow. On Vespera’s end of the tether, the Force flared with red danger. Vespera’s Force-signature darkened with an ugly, greenish-yellow, and Obi-Wan felt her fear.

Despite the tightening of his chest, Obi-Wan blocked Vespera out. He needed to focus on the task at hand, which happened to involve capturing or killing a giant reptilian beast wreaking destruction all over Coruscant.

“It seems to be headed for the Senate building,” Mace said.

Obi-Wan furrowed his brow. “It’s almost as if it has an agenda.”

The corners of Mace’s mouth dropped. “That would not surprise me. This is an intelligent beast.”

“Sirs! We’re landing!” shouted the pilot.

Obi-Wan tensed as the cruiser touched down and the bay doors slid open. Together, Obi-Wan and Mace exited as the tanks around them waited for their signal.

Into his comlink, Mace said, “All tanks, acquire solution and prepare to fire on my order.”

Master Yoda hobbled toward them; Aayla Secura followed close behind him. “Hold your fire. In the beast’s clutches, the Chancellor is.”

“Anakin might be with him, along with Senator Amidala,” Obi-Wan said, his stomach tensing. Anakin could handle himself, but Senator Amidala might not be so lucky with the Zillo Beast.

“If the beast falls, at risk their lives shall be.” Yoda’s big green eyes met Obi-Wan’s, and Obi-Wan sensed the concern permeating from the Jedi Grandmaster.

“We need to come up with an alternative solution,” said Mace.

“Anakin will know to get the Chancellor and Senator Amidala to safety,” said Obi-Wan.

Captain Rex approached them. “Sir, looks like the general’s up to something.”

He handed Mace a pair of binoculars. Mace squinted through them. “What is Skywalker doing?”

Mace passed the binoculars to Obi-Wan. They tinted everything green, but provided a closer view of the ship in the Zillo Beast’s clutches. Inside, Anakin had his lightsaber out, and seemed to be cutting through the floor. The Chancellor and Senator Amidala were not the only ones with Anakin. Obi-Wan’s heart dropped. _Vespera_.

“It appears to be one of Anakin’s improvised plans,” said Obi-Wan lightly. 

“How can it be a plan if it’s improvised?” Mace countered.

“Not to worry. Just catch them when they fall.” Obi-Wan trusted Anakin would get the others to safety. He’d never failed before.

“A lot of the general’s plans involve falling,” noted Rex.

A smirk toyed at the corner of Obi-Wan’s mouth.

“Distract the beast we shall, to give Skywalker more time,” said Yoda. He and Aayla took off.

The ship in the beast’s clutches fell into two halves, thanks to Anakin’s improvised plan. Five figures fell out one half—Obi-Wan swore he glimpsed Vespera’s golden hair—while a few more stayed within the ship. The front half of the ship slid down the curved side of the Senate building. Obi-Wan and Mace charged forward.

“Catch it!” Obi-Wan threw up his hands wrinkled his nose as he concentrated on the Force to slow the ship’s descent. Mace assisted, and soon, the ship slowed to a stop. Obi-Wan relaxed his muscles, but the tightness in his chest merely coiled sharply as the figures who fell out of the ship—Anakin, Padme, Vespera, Artoo, and Threepio—struggled to stop sliding down the side of the building.

“Come on,” ordered Mace. Obi-Wan ran to board one of the cruisers. The ship lifted and circled the Zillo Beast. Wind roared through the open bay door. Obi-Wan tightened his grip on the handle. “All pilots, open fire!”

The ships circling the Zillo Beast’s head fired on it, but the blue blasts merely bounced off the beast’s scales. The tanks opened fire, too. Distracted, the beast roared at them, giving the Chancellor a bit of time to join Anakin, Padme, and Vespera on a flat landing of the building. They sprinted away, but the beast quickly returned its attention toward them. Yoda and Aayla hopped off the beast and joined Anakin and the others in a dead sprint as the beast lumbered toward them.

“Use the gas bombs!” The Chancellor’s voice sounded desperate over the comms.

“Copy that,” said one of the pilots. “Bombs away!”

The Zillo Beast opened its mouth and screeched. Two gas bombs shot directly into its open maw. It coughed, but before it could recover, more gas bombs exploded around it. Sickly green clouds nearly obscured the beast—and the people nearest to it could no longer be seen—and Obi-Wan wished the clouds were thick enough to completely hide the beast. Watching its cries weaken and its movements slow tore at Obi-Wan’s heartstrings. The poor creature never had a chance. The Zillo Beast’s eyes looked toward the ships in a way that appeared almost _pleading_. Obi-Wan’s lips parted and his stomach hurt for the creature as it swayed, succumbing to the poisonous gas until it collapsed. It no longer moved.

***

By the time the beast’s body had been rolled away, and the Chancellor, Anakin, Padme, Vespera, Aayla, and Yoda had been picked up and brought to ground-level, and Obi-Wan and Mace landed with them, early morning light brightened the sky. Through their tether, Obi-Wan felt a wall of grief building like a lump in his throat from Vespera’s side. When she thought no one was looking, she wiped away tears with the back of her hand. Something in Obi-Wan’s chest softened toward her.

“It’s a tragedy that the Zillo Beast paid with its life for our mistakes,” said Anakin. His fists clenched by his sides, and he bowed his head. Padme rested a hand over her heart. Vespera ducked her head, and Obi-Wan felt a fresh wave of sorrow from her.

Chancellor Palpatine’s eyes drooped. “I will make certain that sacrifice was not made in vain.”

Obi-Wan sighed as the heaviness the entire group felt tinged the morning with greyness. He turned with the other Jedi, falling in step with Vespera, who hung behind the group as if afraid to be seen by Masters Yoda and Windu.

“Master Kenobi,” Vespera greeted quietly.

“Queen Vespera,” Obi-Wan returned. “I did not expect to find you here on Coruscant, and in the middle of all this trouble.”

“You’re really surprised? I’m a magnet for trouble and danger.” A hint of amusement dusted the sorrow in Vespera’s voice. Obi-Wan’s lips quirked.

“Of course, how silly of me to forget.”

Vespera’s footsteps slowed. “Actually, I’m here because Separatists landed on my planet.”

Obi-Wan stopped in his tracks. “ _What_? Are you certain?”

Vespera’s mouth twisted with a small smile. “Count Dooku was gracious enough to send someone named Asajj Ventress to lead droids on our planet in a demonstration of the Separatists’ power in an effort to convince Azyrion to leave our alliance with the Republic.”

Obi-Wan’s stomach twisted. “Ventress?”

“You sound like you know her.”

“We’ve had our run-ins,” Obi-Wan allowed. “But you’re a neutral system—”

“Callan suspects that someone on the council invited the Separatists without our knowledge. It seems someone wants Azyrion dragged in this war. I’m sure they hope I’ll die in the crossfires. A tragic consequence of war.” Vespera smiled bitterly.

Obi-Wan stroked his beard. “You were meeting with the Chancellor when all of this happened, weren’t you?”

Vespera nodded, and her shoulders slumped. “And I’m not sure it was going well.”

Obi-Wan folded his arms. He had a million questions for her—well, not quite a _million_ —but now was certainly not the time. “Can we talk later?”

Vespera tensed, and her side of their bond immediately hardened with solid walls. “I don’t know…”

Obi-Wan leaned closer. “If you don’t want to talk to the Jedi Council, at least let’s talk privately.”

Vespera looked hesitant, but nodded. “Alright.” She linked her comm to his. “I’ll send you my address.”

Obi-Wan straightened as Master Yoda hobbled toward them. “Ready to depart, we are. Back to the Jedi Temple, we should go.”

Vespera turned her face away, as if that would hide who she was to Master Yoda.

Yoda’s eyes lightened with amusement. “Good see you it is, Queen Vespera. A long time, it’s been.”

Vespera flushed. “Master Yoda… It’s good to see you, too.”

“Embarrassed to see me, are you?”

Vespera’s eyes stretched a little. “No, of course not—”

Master Windu walked over. “What’s taking so long—” He stopped and folded his arms. “I had a feeling we’d be seeing you, though I never expected it to be in the middle of so much chaos.”

Master Yoda chuckled. “Hmm, forget her youth, Master Windu? Much like Skywalker, she was.”

“Yes, always getting into trouble,” Windu said, though his eyes twinkled.

“Hey!” Anakin protested from a few feet away.

“Recall Kenobi and Stellavis getting into trouble as Padawans, I do,” said Yoda.

“Now _that’s_ a story I want to hear,” said Anakin, joining them.

Obi-Wan sensed Vespera’s unease. “Er, perhaps another time. The queen was just telling me that she has an important meeting with the Chancellor that she needs to reschedule.”

“Yes,” said Vespera, sounding as if she were out of breath, “I must get going. It was good to see all of you. Truly.”

With a dip of her head, Vespera left them to catch up with Padme, who was boarding a shuttle back to the Senate building. Obi-Wan reached with the Force, but met a cold wall on Vespera’s end. Whatever she felt, she did not want him prying.

***

An hour later, Obi-Wan stood at the door of Vespera’s temporary apartment. A handmaiden answered the door.

“You must be Master Kenobi,” she said. “Come in.”

The temporary apartments were reserved for visiting rulers and senators. It was pre-decorated with luxurious sofas, curtains, and decorative pieces that had no other purpose than to look nice. Nice, but staged, and lacking personality.

Obi-Wan sat upon one of the white sofas and waited for Vespera. After a moment, Vespera entered, dressed a bit more casually than usual, with her hair in a loose braid. She sat across from Obi-Wan, looking tight-lipped and tense. The handmaiden reentered, carrying a tray of tea. She set it down on the table in between the two sofas.

Vespera offered the handmaiden a pained smile. “Thank you, Neve.”

“If you need anything else, I’ll be in the next room.” The handmaiden bowed her head and left them alone.

“How did it go with the Chancellor?” Obi-Wan queried.

Vespera huffed. “The Chancellor says that I have to meet with Duchess Satine, as Azyrion is part of the Council of Neutral Systems. If I want the Republic’s aid, I first need to meet with her to avoid breaching any treaties.”

Obi-Wan frowned. “Satine’s a good woman. I’m sure she’ll agree to let you get any help you need.”

“I’m acquainted with Satine,” Vespera replied, “I’m not worried about that.”

“What are you worried about?”

Vespera rubbed her palms. “The bureaucracy… It might cost my people their lives. The Separatists are peaceful now, but…”

“Yes, the fact that they’ve landed on your planet under the guise of peace is disconcerting.” Obi-Wan stroked his beard. “You said Ventress was leading them?”

“Yes. A while ago, Count Dooku showed up for discussions. He basically advertised the Separatists the entire time. Apparently, Azyrion has something they want, though what, I’m not sure.” 

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows. “You never mentioned that.”

“I told Padme.” Vespera shrugged softly. “Someone on my council invited him.”

“You don’t know who?”

Vespera laughed humorlessly. “All of them hate me and want me dead. If Azyrion is dragged into this war, it would be very easy for something tragic to happen to me and they could just blame it on the war.”

“I know you and your council disagree, and they’re not the most pleasant sort, but would they really want you dead?”

“Padme and I found a clause in my marriage contract with Callan. If I die before producing a male heir, then Callan becomes the ruling monarch, no council needed. The throne wouldn’t go to any remaining blood relatives of mine.”

“ _Are_ there any blood relatives?” Obi-Wan queried. Vespera’s face drained of color, and her fear rippled through their Force bond, as well as the overwhelming desire to protect someone… Obi-Wan cleared his throat. “Could it be Callan, then?”

“I don’t think so,” Vespera said, and the fear ebbed away. “He was just as shocked as I was when Ventress showed up. He covered for me so that I could come to Coruscant and plead for the Republic’s aid.”

Obi-Wan leaned forward. “I’m needed to investigate something on Mandalore in a few days. You should come with me and talk to Satine.”

“No, I must get back, but I appreciate the offer,” Vespera said, and her shoulders tensed once more. Obi-Wan sensed that he had trespassed into sensitive terrain for Vespera. “Was there something else you wanted to discuss?”

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t think it needed elaboration. Master Plo said you formed a strong Force bond—”

Vespera’s look cut him off. “You told Master Plo?”

Obi-Wan leaned back and raised his hands. “I respected your wishes. I didn’t tell the Council; I only hinted at some things with Master Plo. What is your aversion to the Jedi? I thought you’d be a bit friendlier, considering you left the Order on good terms.”

Vespera’s posture stiffened again, and Obi-Wan braced himself for a sharp retort. Then, Vespera sagged and she looked exhausted. “I know.”

Instead of elaborating, Vespera stood and stepped out onto the balcony. Obi-Wan followed her. The blue and purple lights of Coruscant illuminated them, and the blue neon seemed to deepen the contours of Vespera’s face. She leaned with her forearms resting on the railing. “I have nothing against the Jedi.”

Obi-Wan frowned. “Then why are you so adverse to seeking the Council’s help?”

Vespera gripped the railing and leaned back a little. The lighter parts of her hair reflected the Coruscanti lights. It was rather dreamy to look upon. “I can’t help but feel I’ve done something wrong. I don’t understand why the Force has connected us, but I have a talent for making Force bonds, but I didn’t mean to do this, and I don’t think it was me—”

“Vez, you haven’t done anything wrong. From what I’ve read, Force bonds often occur as a result of a moment of peril. I caught you, and both of our guards were down, we were reaching out in the Force, and latched onto each other.”

Vespera scrunched her nose. “It sounds so _clinical_ when you put it like that.”

“I don’t know if that’s what happened, but it’s a possible explanation.”

Lowering her head, Vespera murmured, “Would the Council even know how this happened?”

“Personally, I don’t think the _way_ the Force bond formed matters. The fact is that we _are_ connected, and now we have to figure out what to do with it.”

“ _Do_ with it? We don’t even know what it means or the full extent of it!” Another wave of anxiety surged from Vespera’s end of their bond.

Obi-Wan softened. “Why can’t you face the Jedi?”

Vespera met his gaze, looking strained. “Can I trust you, Obi-Wan?”

“Yes. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

She scowled. “Don’t friends usually know more about each other? We’re acquaintances at best.”

Obi-Wan smirked. “Are you always so difficult?”

Vespera hummed and looked away. One corner of her mouth slanted downward more than the other as she pressed her lips into a subdued smile. She sighed as she gazed at the Coruscanti skyline to avoid meeting Obi-Wan’s gaze. “I’m _afraid_ to face the Jedi.”

Obi-Wan restrained himself from saying that he knew that already. “We wouldn’t give away your secret to Azyrion—”

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” Vespera said, turning her back to the skyline. “I’ve been _asleep_ for the past few years. Now, I’m awake. I haven’t felt the Force like this in years, and I’m getting worse at hiding it. Leaving the Jedi Order has always haunted me, and I’m afraid of going back. I’m scared that the _shame_ will eat me alive, that I’ll regret leaving all over again, that I’ll want to return to the Jedi even though I know I _can’t_.” 

Oh. _Oh_. Obi-Wan’s heart clenched as Vespera’s eyes filled with tears. It wasn’t fear of the _Jedi_ , but of herself. “I can’t imagine what any of this feels like.”

Vespera looked at him, and the tear tracks on her cheeks cut through him. If he could ease her pain, he would. “I’m not ready to face the Jedi yet.”

“You’re facing me.”

“That’s different.”

“I’m on the Council. How is it different?”

Vespera gestured vaguely at Obi-Wan’s body. “You’re _you_.”

A snort escaped Obi-Wan’s mouth. “Should I be offended by that?”

Vespera smiled. “Maybe a little.”

Obi-Wan returned the gesture, and then sobered. “We can try to figure this out on our own for now. But facing the Jedi Order isn’t something you can avoid forever, Vez.”

Vespera held his gaze. Her hazel eyes shimmered with green. Obi-Wan swallowed a lump in his throat. He’d almost forgotten how pretty she was. Almost.

“I know. Thank you for respecting my wishes. It means more than you know.” She squeezed his arm and drifted off the balcony. Sharing a strong Force bond with Vespera definitely wasn’t the worst thing happening in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short little chapter with plenty of Obi-Wan/Vespera interaction! What did you guys think?
> 
> (Again, thank everyone who has supported this story! Please continue to do so!)


	11. Chapter Ten

_The black leather of her gloves squeaked as she clenched her fists, boots thumping against the sleek black floor as she marched through the ship. The starlit galaxy sparkled outside the viewport. It was an eternal midnight on the other side Star Destroyer. Her footsteps slowed and she paused, turning to admire the desert planet below. The beige orb was certainly a sand planet, a real dustbowl. She wrinkled her nose. Something about desert planets felt so empty, wasteful. Suffocating, entrapping._

_Heavy footsteps beat around the corner and stopped when they found her. She didn’t even need to look to know who it was._

_Suddenly, she was not aboard the ship, in a snowy forest. Her teacher—master—lay heaving in the snow. Her opponent stood in tan robes, chest rising and falling with breaths from the fight; the hum of the Jedi’s blue lightsaber reverberated in her bones._

Vespera jerked awake. For the past few days, dreams along the same line as that haunted her nights. A Star Destroyer, the vastness of space, the blurred Jedi with a blue lightsaber, the dark-cloaked master, the eerie shadow of the Dark Side… Those same motifs filtered through her dreams each night. Every morning, she awoke with a gasp, as if she’d been holding her breath while asleep. With each dream, she felt the hum of the Force in the marrow of her bones. This was a vision of something to come, though for who, Vespera wasn’t sure. The person in the dream felt… familiar, somehow. But they had a deep anger in their heart that Vespera did not carry. She hoped it was not her own future, for it seemed empty and lonely, saturated with the Dark Side.

For a moment, she considered hiding under her covers instead of facing the day. After all the stress with the Zillo Beast on Coruscant, Vespera was glad to be in her own bed. But Azyrion offered no relaxation beyond the doors of her bedchamber. In the streets of her cities, Separatist propaganda marred the walls. People attended marches and rallies promoting the Separatists. There were more people in support of the Republic. These days, however, felt as though the number of Separatist supporters seemed to rival that of Republic support. Vespera didn’t want to deal with the politics of it all. Her people were allowed to have their opinions, and with the council’s resistance to every decision she attempted to make, it was nearly impossible to educate the people about Azyrion’s options.

Her gold-and-cream-colored sheets and walls seemed much safer than the crackling tension beyond her bedroom doors. She’d much rather stay curled in a warm ball, drifting in and out of a sleepy haze. She wanted to reside in this feeling of golden clouds warm with the sun’s touch, fuzzy and soft against her cheeks.

Hitching her breath, Vespera steeled herself and rolled out of her bed. The cold floor sent a jolt through her body. She padded to the walk-in closet connected to her bedchamber and withdrew a gold gown suited for informal court. She didn’t need assistance for her informal court gowns, so calling for Neve’s help didn’t matter.

After readying for the day, Vespera made her bed, squared her shoulders, and headed for breakfast. Guards bowed to her when she passed them. Maids stopped in their tracks and curtseyed. Butlers paused to bow, too.

Vespera forced herself to smile graciously, even though she already couldn’t wait for nighttime, where she would not have to fake her good mood. She could lie still and not be bothered by anyone. Perhaps she could take a hot bubble bath… Her skin tingled at the thought.

As usual, breakfast was an incredibly lonely affair. Vespera used that time to read, since not even Callan ate with her. Vespera should be reading nonfiction books about Azyrion’s government, or laws, or history, or some practical theory book, but she liked fairytales. Fantasies. Stories about worlds far from her own, stories with heroines who fought battles, damsels who waited to be rescued, and romances that lovers tried to emulate. Callan called her childish for her reading habits, but Vespera clung to these worlds. Her world seemed so bleak sometimes.

So, Vespera took her time with her morning caf as she read a chapter in her latest fairytale about a sun and moon falling in love before leaving to attend a meeting with her council. Her trek through the palace slipped by in a blur—she’d walked this path so many times she no longer needed to pay attention—so the doors to the council chamber appeared before her sooner than she’d like. Taking a deep breath, Vespera squared her shoulders and entered the council chamber.

The other members sat around the oval-shaped table already. Many of them feigned amicability as Vespera dipped her head in acknowledgement. Several others didn’t even try to hide their contempt—like Cathal—and narrowed their eyes as Vespera circled the table and sat at the head, at the left side of the king’s seat.

As per custom, everyone rose from their seats when King Callan entered. He gestured for everyone to have a seat once he was comfortable. Vespera braced herself for the onslaught of casual misogyny and resistance to her power. She had the final say in most decisions, but lately, the council did not seem to care about upholding that particular tradition. Of course, every other tradition of Azyrion, they treated with great reverence, but when it came to Vespera and her decisions as queen, they pretended that tradition no longer mattered. Even though she wanted to help her people and provide them with more freedom and power, she feared that there would be no way for her to accomplish that while her council prevailed. Hopefully, Padme and Bail Organa found something in those documents to help Vespera dissolve the council’s power…

“First order of business,” said Callan, reading from a datapad, “is the matter of the Separatists landing on Azyrion.”

The councilmen had the decency to look a little uncomfortable, at least. If Vespera had brought up the matter, they would have sneered at her. At least she and Callan were in agreement that Asajj Ventress’s arrival with Separatist droids as a walking advertisement of the Separatists’ might was unacceptable.

“Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it?” Cathal snapped. “The Separatists were after Senator Amidala and those Jedi, and you”—he pointed a gnarled finger at Vespera “—let them stay here, and arrest my son!”

“Your son shot their ship down,” Vespera replied coolly. Already, the forefront of her mind pounded with a headache. “Not to mention that he was building weapons under your nose. While we are a neutral planet, the Council of Neutral Systems remains loyal to the Republic, so Senator Amidala and the Jedi—”

“Had no right to just land here without requesting permission!” Cathal practically foamed at the mouth.

“Your son never gave them a chance,” Vespera sighed. “Councilman Cathal, perhaps you are too close to this situation and need to take a leave of absence to cool your head.”

“How _dare_ you?” Cathal seethed. “We warned you that those Jedi would bring the war directly to us, and look! Separatists have landed on our planet twice!”

“How convenient that they did.”

“Excuse me?”

Vespera shrugged. “I believe it’s _very_ convenient that as soon as the Jedi and Senator Amidala left, Count Dooku and Asajj Ventress butted into Azyrion’s business.”

“Are you accusing me of something, your majesty?” Cathal’s voice sounded tight.

Callan snorted beside Vespera. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Cathal. No one’s accusing _you_ of anything. Though, I must say I agree with the queen for once. The arrival of the Separatists on our soil is disconcerting, and we must do something about it.”

“Well, you’ve been very friendly with the Republic lately,” said Councilman Gan. “Have your frequent trips to Coruscant yielded anything fruitful, your majesty?”

Gan said _your majesty_ like an insult, but Vespera brushed it off. She locked her fingers together. “I’m afraid that my meeting with Chancellor Palpatine did not yield much support. He said we would need the Council of Neutral Systems’ support in gaining Republic aid if we want it. I’m planning to send word to Duchess Satine Kryze.”

“Why haven’t you already?” demanded Gan.

“Well, this council isn’t too fond of my making decisions on my own,” said Vespera dryly. “I decided to wait until our meeting.”

“Of course, you have our approval, there should be no question when Azyrion’s security is at risk,” said Councilman Deion. He was the oldest councilman, yet the kindest. Vespera supposed she had gained his respect during the civil war with Raria. Deion served as one of Vespera’s father’s advisors, too. He turned his dark eyes to Vespera, and the crow’s feet around his eyes sharpened as he offered her a sympathetic smile. “Contact Duchess Kryze and arrange a meeting with her.”

“Thank you, Councilman Deion,” Vespera murmured.

“How do we solve this problem?” Gan asked, pressing a button on the table. A hologram recording of a nobleman speaking at a town square in Aeterna flashed to life in the center of the table. The nobleman—Enzo Vox—ranted about how the Separatists would offer Azyrion more freedom than the tyrannical reign of the Republic. People in the crowd held up signs in support.

Vespera groaned. “I thought we’d seen the last of him years ago.”

“Yes, he was vocal about the civil war, too,” said Deion.

“Well, he is stirring up the people,” said Cathal. “And I for one don’t disagree with his message.”

The council erupted into an argument. Vespera slumped in her chair. Most councilmen agreed with Cathal while a few disagreed. Callan remained quiet for the most part, though he leaned toward Vespera’s ear.

“Cathal isn’t exactly painting himself in a favorable light.”

“No,” Vespera agreed, “he isn’t even hiding his support for the Separatists.”

“Which means he thinks he can get away with it.”

“Well, you’ve allowed Cathal to practically run this council in the past,” Vespera hissed. “He believes he is untouchable.”

“He is,” muttered Callan. “His family’s estate owns the gem mines on Raria, one of Azyrion’s biggest exports. If we lose his support, we risk upsetting Raria.”

Vespera rubbed her forehead. As much as she despised Callan, she agreed with him. Azyrion and Raria’s relationship was fragile at best. And with the recent support for Lorelei, Vespera didn’t want to risk further unrest among her people. She didn’t want Azyrion to break into war with its moon again, as well as be dragged into the galaxy-wide war.

It seemed that no matter which way she turned, Vespera hit a dead end.

***

Meetings with her council usually felt pointless, but this last one felt like they just ran in circles until the soles of their shoes burned away. Vespera left with a pounding migraine. She itched to visit the rolling golden hills of Tatum and hold Kenna in her arms. She wanted to take her daughter and run to the edge of the galaxy, far away from her council, and Azyrion, and the war, and the Jedi, and…

Obi-Wan.

As much as she wanted to, Vespera couldn’t run and hide from her Force bond with Obi-Wan. And she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to, either.

But gods, why of all people had she formed a bond with _Obi-Wan Kenobi_?

Her childhood friend (and for a time, her schoolgirl crush) and now Jedi Master… How he’d changed, and yet remained the same. He was wiser now, though he still retained that snark that Vespera enjoyed about him. And his gentleness. He was still handsome as ever, too. The beard suited him well.

A faint blush rose to Vespera’s cheeks. Could Obi-Wan hear her thoughts now?

She couldn’t sense his presence like she normally could when they connected. Oh, gods… If he ever knew she thought he was handsome, she’d never hear the end of it.

Still, the thought broadened her smile.

And, as much as she wanted to, Vespera couldn’t abandon Azyrion. She left the Jedi because of her duty to her people. She wasn’t about to run away now, either.

Most days, Vespera managed to exude warmth toward her subjects easily. Today, however, proved a bit more difficult. Still, she played her role as queen well. She received subjects who journeyed to the palace for an audience. She met with supporters and political opponents alike all afternoon.

By the end, all she wanted to do was lounge in a hot bubble bath.

Then, Enzo Vox walked into the throne room.

Vespera straightened, her eyes stretching. “Lord Vox, I’m surprised to see you here.” 

Enzo Vox’s forehead gleamed with sweat. He exaggerated a bow. “King Callan, Queen Vespera.”

“How may we be of service?” Vespera shifted in her seat. The Force flickered in jagged spikes around Vox. There was something _dangerous_ about him. Tension curled in Vespera’s shoulders, but she tried to hide her unease.

“War looms before us, my queen,” said Vox, straightening from his bow.

“Azyrion is neutral.”

“We are being pushed out of that neutrality, I’m afraid,” said Vox. “You’ve failed as queen.”

Ice pooled in the pit of Vespera’s stomach.

“What are you talking about?” Callan sounded bored as he slouched on his throne. 

“The day of Azyrion’s reckoning draws closer.” Vox seemed nervous as he paced the throne room, pausing to stare at the stained-glass depiction of Vespera’s father. “Today is just a domino falling. The others will follow.”

Vespera clenched the armrests of her throne until her knuckles whitened. The Force seemed to flash with warning signs. Whatever Vox was talking about, it had merit. Dangerous merit. “Lord Vox—”

Vox turned and outspread his arms, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Today, the people will see the blood on your hands, and revolution will be inevitable!”

“What are you talking about?” Vespera demanded sharply.

Vox chuckled. “Today, a bomb will go off somewhere on Azyrion and create a martyr. Innocent blood will stain your hands. They call you the Bloodborne Queen for a reason, your majesty. You will live up to that title once more!”

Vespera jumped to her feet, her heart pounding. “Guards!”

Callan no longer seemed bored as he marched toward Vox, who the palace guards arrested. “You must be a special kind of fool to threaten us in the heart of our own palace—”

“This is no threat,” Vox promised. “The bomb will snuff lives today, and draw the war ever closer.”

Vespera’s chest rose and fell with rapid, panicked breaths as the guards dragged Vox to a containment cell. Callan said something about spearheading the interrogation, while Vespera was vaguely aware of sending guards to investigate Vox’s home. It would be too late by the time they found anything.

Vespera forced her fear down. She used to be Jedi. She could handle the pressure. She ordered an immediate evacuation of the palace, just to be safe. But even that would take about an hour, and Vespera would not leave until every person vacated the palace safely. On Callan’s orders, the guards remained in the palace to conduct a thorough search for a bomb, but that would take hours. Vox could have learned some of the secret passageways of the palace. And they didn’t even know if the bomb was in the palace at all. 

Underneath the impending danger, the Force felt slippery and slimy with disguise.

Why would Vox even warn Vespera and Callan about the bomb in the first place? It made no sense…

Vespera hurried toward the containment cell area of the palace. The only person who could offer answers was Lord Vox, and Vespera got the distinct feeling that Callan wasn’t asking the right questions.

When she arrived at the detainment center, the guards blocked her from passing the threshold. “King Callan has requested us to keep you from the interrogation, your majesty.”

The guard on the right—the one who spoke—looked uncomfortable as Vespera glared at him. “Well, you can tell the king _consort_ that the queen cannot be barred from entering rooms of her own palace.”

The guard on the left grimaced. “Your majesty… The king did not want you to witness—”

“Witness what?”

“King Callan has resorted to _desperate_ measures of interrogation,” blurted out the guard on the right.

 _Torture_. Nausea coiled in Vespera’s stomach.

“I see,” she muttered. “I will return shortly. When I do, you will not keep me from entering. Is that understood?”

“Yes, your majesty.”

Trembling, Vespera turned on her heel and headed for the nearest refresher. She grabbed a towel and doused it with cool water before hurrying back to the detainment center. This time, the guards let her through.

Vox’s cries cut into Vespera’s chest. There was a blunt sound and Vox let out a whimper. Vespera rounded the corner and found Callan, his knuckles bloodied and torn, panting as he stood over a shackled Vox.

“Stop!” Vespera cried.

Callan sighed as he turned. Strands of his sandy brown hair fell in his face. Sweat dripped down his temple. Blood flecked his face, and his hands trembled. He bared his teeth at Vespera. “He still hasn’t talked.”

“Beating it out of him won’t help,” Vespera snapped.

“Oh, you want to treat the terrorist nicely, is that it?” Callan raised his eyebrows and gestured at Vox, who was facedown on the floor, sniveling. His hands were shackled behind his back.

“I don’t want to resort to barbaric methods of interrogation,” Vespera replied, removing the containment field around the cell.

Callan dragged his hands down his face, smearing blood and sweat together. “We don’t have time for your pacifism, Vespera!”

“You hurt a man enough, and they’ll admit to anything,” Vespera replied, stepping into the cell. She sat Vox upright, slumping him against the wall. His left eye was swollen shut. Blood oozed out of his nose, and his lip was split. Vespera’s stomach lurched at the sight of him.

“Whatever. I need a break, anyway.” Callan moved to leave, and then paused. “You’ve never had the guts for this sort of thing.”

“I hope I never do.”

“Welcome to the dark side of politics, dearie,” Callan seethed. He swept out of the detainment area.

Stomach still sloshing with nausea, Vespera dabbed at Vox’s fresh wounds. He winced and jerked away from Vespera’s touch. His good eye widened as she cleaned blood off his face.

“The bomb isn’t the only threat today, is it?” Vespera prompted gently.

Vox paled, but refused to speak. Or maybe he _couldn’t_.

“It doesn’t make sense for you to announce the threat and make us aware of it,” Vespera continued. “If this is all about innocent blood being spilled, then you wouldn’t warn us of the threat. It would take more lives if it were a surprise. And you specifically mentioned creating a martyr. What did you mean?”

Vox stared at Vespera with his good eye stretched as open as it could go.

Vespera sighed. “If you talk to me, I can protect you.”

For a few seconds, Vespera feared that maybe Vox really was too wounded to speak. Then, he chuckled. “Queen Vespera… You cannot protect anyone. Not even yourself.”

A chill lashed down Vespera’s spine. “What do you mean?”

“The people will learn of your dark secrets,” Vox smiled, blood staining his teeth, “and they will tear that crown off your pretty head. Your enemies lurk in the walls of your own home, and on your own planet. There is no one you can trust.”

Vespera froze, but she forced herself to swallow the lump in her throat. “Is there even a bomb? Or is it just a cover?”

“Oh, there’s a bomb,” promised Vox, “and it will destroy a monument.”

“Where is it? Tell me, and I can keep Callan from hurting you—”

“What that tyrant of a king does to me doesn’t matter,” laughed Vox. “And I will never help a _malefica_.”

A gasp slipped past Vespera’s lips, and she jerked away from Vox. The damp cloth dropped from her hand. “What are you talking about?”

“I know what you are,” Vox snarled. “It’s only a matter of time before the people learn, too. But it’s not time for that domino to fall, I’m afraid.”

Vespera backed away, shaking. She left the detainment center and hurried down the corridor with no real destination in mind. She needed air. She needed to delete the security footage. She needed to tell Abner. She needed—

“Oh, really. Vez, I’m about to enter a warzone. Can I get a moment’s peace?” Obi-Wan’s voice halted Vespera in her tracks. His surroundings were blurred to her, but he appeared clear as day, sitting cross-legged on the floor as if he were in the middle of the corridor in Vespera’s palace. He seemed exasperated, though there was no real bite to his words. If anything, he seemed mildly amused.

Any other time, Vespera would be happy to see a friendly face. But in this moment, Vespera wanted to break down and scream. She didn’t have time to deal with their stupid Force bond and all its complications. Someone on Azyrion knew Vespera was Force-sensitive. A malefica. Did they know she used to be a Jedi? How many people knew? Oh, and there was a _bomb_. 

“Kriff, I didn’t mean to contact you. How do I turn this off?” Vespera waved her hands in the air wildly. There was not telling when the bomb would go off.

Obi-Wan detangled his legs and stood. “You can’t turn it off. It’s the _Force_.”

“I know that!” Vespera snapped.

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows. “Are you alright?”

Vespera leaned against the wall. Tears welled in her eyes. Kriff, not now. She’d held herself together all day: she’d been yelled at, sneered at, threatened, faced a bomb threat, discovered one of her biggest secrets was not only known by someone else but by an _enemy_ , but as soon as she was in Obi-Wan’s presence, she wanted to cry? It wasn’t fair.

“No,” Vespera choked. She refused to look at Obi-Wan. She did not want to cry in front of him, especially now. She didn’t have _time_ for this. “I can’t trust anyone in this palace, and my enemies are closing in on me. There’s a bomb about to go off—”

“ _What_?” Obi-Wan’s eyes widened. “Vez, you need to get out of there.”

“We don’t know where it is,” Vespera replied. She explained the situation as quickly as she could. Part of her writhed at the thought of bothering Obi-Wan, who was clearly readying himself for a battle somewhere else in the galaxy. But the other part of her—that selfish part that clung to companionship—felt an immense relief at telling her troubles to a friend.

Obi-Wan folded his arms and stroked his beard. “Most bombers want to send a message, so it’s not entirely strange that you were warned of it beforehand.”

“Great, so my only theory is moot.” Vespera buried her face in her hands for a moment.

“Not necessarily,” said Obi-Wan. “It could be that there is more than one agenda going on here. You said he wanted to create a martyr, right?”

“Yes,” Vespera sighed. “He’s been advocating for the Separatists here—long story—so I suppose any of the councilmen who support him could be potential targets.”

“In my experience, bombings take place at important monuments to send a message,” Obi-Wan added, furrowing his brow.

Vespera’s head snapped up. “What did you just say?”

“Bombings take place at important monuments to send a message.”

Heart racing, Vespera pushed off the wall. “Vox said something about a monument falling today!”

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows. “He supports the Separatists, wants to make a martyr out of someone, and is most likely targeting a monument. Are there any locations you can think of that have all three of those connections?”

Of course. It was so simple.

“It’s here,” Vespera muttered. She brightened. “The bomb is somewhere in the palace!”

Obi-Wan lifted a brow. “Most people would not be so excited about that revelation.”

“Right, thank you, no time!” Vespera cried, running off. Thankfully, Obi-Wan disappeared as the connection dissolved. She had to warn the detainment center and Callan—

A loud boom sounded several corridors away. The palace shook, and debris exploded everywhere. Vespera was flung off her feet. Her back smacked the wall, and she crumpled on the floor, her vision going dark.

A high-pitched ringing pierced her ears as consciousness returned to her. For several minutes, Vespera couldn’t even move. The ringing in her ears gave her vertigo every time she tried to get up, and her limbs trembled so much that she couldn’t even force herself to stumble down the corridor.

Finally, the shakiness subsided enough for her to stagger to her feet. She made her way to the detainment center. The Force seemed to nudge her in that direction. When she arrived, her jaw dropped.

It was gone. A gaping whole replaced the detainment center. Part of the ceiling above caved in, and several walls around had crumbled in the blast. The corpses of several guards littered the debris-ridden ground. There was no telling how many were trapped underneath the rubble.

Vespera jumped when someone gripped her arm. Callan tugged her away from the scene. Grime covered his face, and he looked quite pale underneath it all. Lights flashed around them. The emergency alarms must’ve been triggered.

“We need to get out of here,” Callan said, though his voice came out muffled due to the ringing in Vespera’s ears.

“We have to check for survivors—”

“That’s not our responsibility!” Callan yelled.

Vespera pulled out of his grasp. She couldn’t leave without checking for survivors—

A sharp, searing pain slashed through her ribs. With a guttural cry, Vespera clutched her side and dropped to her knees, faintly aware of Callan reaching for her. Screwing her eyes shut, Vespera tried to will the pain away. Perhaps she’d been wounded in the explosion and hadn’t noticed—

But when she opened her eyes, she wasn’t in her palace.

_Blaster fire spat around him. The desperate shouts of his troops clawed at his heart. He couldn’t fight with them. He could barely move. His side roared in agony. Most of his ribs were broken. His entire body ached. Blood caked his cheek, which stung with an open gash. Geonosian dust clogged his lungs. His breaths came out labored and shallow._

_A soft, warm presence wreathed around him. No, no, no… Not now. He didn’t want her to see him like this. If this was his last day, he didn’t want Vespera to see him like this…_

_But damn. He was selfish and wanted to see her._

_Gritting his teeth, Obi-Wan lifted his head. Vespera knelt before him, clutching her side—the same side that was wounded on Obi-Wan—tears sparkling in her eyes. White dust coated her gown and parts of her face. Chunks of hair fell loose from her usual updo. Blood leaked from her left ear. So, that disorienting feeling he experienced earlier had been on Vespera’s end, as he guessed. Was it the bomb?_

Vespera jerked her head, her heart slamming in her chest. What the hell was that? For a moment, did she see herself through Obi-Wan’s eyes?

Blinking furiously, she focused. Obi-Wan came into view, this time from her perspective. He clutched his side, looking exhausted. Orange dust covered him. A cut ran across his cheek. Blood seeped through his Jedi robes. Vespera could feel the ghost of his wound in her side.

Her heart jumped to her throat and once more, tears welled in her eyes. Was Obi-Wan… dying?

“Obi-Wan…” Vespera choked, allowing the tears to fall. No, he couldn’t die. This wasn’t it. They still had to figure out why the Force connected them. She’d never experienced a bond so powerful; there had to be a reason, right? It wasn’t just chance.

Obi-Wan couldn’t die yet. How dare he waltzed back into her life, only to bow out so soon? No, it wasn’t fair. He couldn’t _die_.

Even in his wounded state, Obi-Wan offered Vespera a crooked smile. She waited for some snarky comment, but it never came. He was too weak.

Suddenly, Vespera was shut out from Obi-Wan. He disappeared, and she crumpled on the dirty floor of her palace, gasping. Tears leaked out the corners of her eyes, and a terrible tightness clutched her heart. She felt like she was drowning.

She’d felt Obi-Wan’s intention before the connection vanished. He had shut her out because he didn’t want her to see him die.

***

While a medic looked her over, Vespera discreetly tried to reconnect with Obi-Wan, but his side of the connection felt like a wall. Still, feeling that strong block gave her hope. Maybe Obi-Wan was adamantly blocking her out. She knew what it felt like to not have a connection with someone, and this didn’t feel like that. She’d _know_ if Obi-Wan died. Right?

Callan approached; his mouth pressed into a flat line. He waved the medic away. “Vespera.”

Vespera lifted her head slowly, still feeling quite dazed. “Yes?”

“I just received word from Raria,” Callan paused and lowered his gaze. Vespera held her breath, but she already knew what her husband was about to say. The real domino’s fall. “Lady Lorelei escaped prison.”

Although she expected it, Vespera still felt winded by the news. She closed her eyes for a moment. It was not often that she prayed to Azyrion’s gods, as she never felt a true connection with them, but she offered a weak prayer that she did not lose Obi-Wan and her planet in the same day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody! I’m back (kind of)! I know it’s been a really long time, and I’m sorry.
> 
> I lost inspiration for this story a while ago because I felt really overwhelmed by the political intrigue of the story. I felt like I had bitten off more than I could chew, so I took a break. I started watching My Hero Academia and Attack On Titan, so my Star Wars drive plummeted a little bit. I’m trying not to abandon my stories, though! I know how frustrating that is as a reader, and I do still adore Vespera and Obi-Wan, and I want to share their story. I’m still outlining this story a bit, but I feel like it’s less random and becoming more structured.
> 
> Anyway, I’m excited to be back! I’m alternating between writing for this, my My Hero Academia fics, and a Detroit: Become Human fic, so bear with me. But I haven’t forgotten Vespera and Obi-Wan’s story, and there’s lots of angst, romance, and adventure to come!


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